City of Resentful Angels
by SpeakNow1118
Summary: Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

Clary's phone was ringing in her pocket. It took a moment to notice, since she was heavily involved with Jace at the moment. She could feel Jace's lips quirk up against hers. "Do you want to get that?" He asked, managing to remove his mouth from hers for a moment.

"You mean that wasn't you?" She looked confused and hurt, "I thought you were just really happy to see me…" She trailed off, her lips tugging upward. Jace pinched her hip playfully and kissed her cheek. "Not really, no. I've got better things on my mind right now." She replied to his rolling eyes with another kiss.

He smiled and pulled her close again. Then her phone buzzed once, twice, thrice, four more times. He pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the couch, distancing himself just enough so that they weren't touching. "Just answer it."

Clary groaned and reached into her pocket. "Hello?" She answered groggily; she was highly distracted by the fact that Jace was softly caressing her thigh through her jeans.

"Clary?" Luke sounded panicked, "Clary is that you?"

Clary sat up a little straighter. "Luke? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Clary, it's time! I'm taking your mother to the hospital right now. Please come, and hurry… I don't think that I should be the only one here. Jocelyn looks like she wants to kill me, right about now." Clary could hear her mother cursing and screaming at Luke. She smiled.

"We'll be right there."

"Where are we going?" Jace asked.

Clary launched herself off of the couch and started ripping around the room, gathering things to take along. In the midst of this whirlwind, she answered, "To the hospital. My mom is in labor right now."

Jace's eyes got very wide.

A few hours later, Clary, Jace and Luke were gathered in the cramped hospital room watching Jocelyn hold her new baby boy. They were dressed ridiculously, draped in hospital gowns, gloves, and hairnets. Clary smirked as she realized that they resembled the aliens from the horror flick Jace had rented for them just the other night. While she looked at her new brother, she took a moment to reflect on the past two and half years.

Luke and Jocelyn had gotten married, and just a few short months later, Jocelyn announced she was pregnant. The first baby had miscarried at the full moon. Luke had thought that the baby was probably more werewolf than Nephilim, but it didn't matter. It had nearly killed Jocelyn. Three months after that, Jocelyn was pregnant again. This time, the baby had been carried to term, and look where they were now- in the hospital, rejoicing over a new life. Of course the Silent Brothers and the Clave would have to examine the baby; never before in history had there been a Shadowhunter and Lycanthrope crossbreed. But that was all in the future. Clary was thinking about the past. Over the past two years, she and Jace had grown even stronger. She lived at the Institute fulltime now, with him and the Lightwoods. At first, she'd had her own room, but eventually Jace insisted that she move in with him. So that's where they were now, sharing a room and so much more. They had talked about marriage, but they both agreed that at ages eighteen and twenty, they were too young. Both sets of their respective parents had gotten married at a young age and look at what had happened there. She still shuddered a little, thinking of the ordeal that had happened. She was still haunted by memories of Valentine and Sebastian.

When she felt Jace's hand rubbing soft circles on her back, she turned to him and pressed her warm lips against his cool cheek and smiled at him. When he smiled back, she felt like she was floating.

"Well, mom?" She asked in utter anticipation

"Kale," Jocelyn answered, smiling to herself.

"Kale?" Clary repeated, "Why Kale?"

Luke answered this time. "Kale literally means 'man,' and that's what he is. He is going to be a man, not a Downworlder crossbreed or a tainted Shadowhunter. He is going to be a man." Luke looked at his son in amazement, running his hand over Kale's head, stroking the almost nonexistent fuzz of hair that was there.

"Kale," both Jocelyn and Clary repeated the name at the same time and smiled at each other.

"Do you want to hold him, Clary?" Jocelyn asked softly.

"I don't know…" Clary trailed off, hesitating, "He's so tiny… It kinda freaks me out, actually." She trailed off again. Jocelyn held Kale out to her.

"Just take him. Meet your new brother." Jocelyn smiled again as Clary took him, carefully holding him just how her mother had. Jocelyn settled back into the pillows and drifted into sleep, physically and emotionally exhausted after the day's events.

Clary looked down into the face of her brother. _He looks like Luke, _she mused, _but he has Mom's eyes. _He lifted his precious little hands towards her and yawned, his little pink rosebud mouth opening wide. Clary touched her index finger to Kale's palm and gasped a little when his fingers fisted around her finger. He had little artist's fingers, already long and tapered. Well, as long and tapered as a six-hour-old baby's fingers could be, at any rate.

Jace hooked his chin over Clary's shoulder and looked down inquisitively at the pink baby tightly swaddled in a blanket. The love of his life, his future wife, his whole reason for existence was holding a baby. It almost made him want to be a father in that _exact_ moment. Clary turned her head just a little to look at him. "He's so tiny," he breathed.

"He's a baby." She breathed right back. Then, looking up at Luke, she saw him smirking at her. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." He answered, holding his arms out for his son. Jace and Clary left a few moments after that. Clary stopped at the door to look back into the room and saw Luke looking at his son and sleeping wife with absolute, unconditional, and unrequited love.

In their room that night, Clary snuggled up against Jace's side, and his arm went around her. They had never revealed it to one another, but this was their favorite part of the night. They held on to each other like there was nothing else in the world. Sometimes they kissed, sometimes they did a little more, sometimes they did nothing but hold each other, gently stroking each other's arms or face.

"Clary-" Jace started, but broke off.

"Hmm?" Clary murmured groggily. She was in that netherworld between slumber and consciousness, "What is it? I'm awake."

Jace sighed. He wished he were more eloquent. "In the hospital room, earlier today, when you were holding Kale…" he trailed off, and she prompted him again. "When you were holding Kale, you had this look on your face. Wh- What were you thinking about?" His hands were trailing all over her body.

"Mmmm," she moaned, turning her face into his chest, "that feels so good."

"Seriously, Clarissa, what were you thinking about?" He asked, impatient.

She put her hand to her eyes, and thought about her answer. She winced at the use of her full name, "Well, Jonathan, mostly I was just, I don't know, thinking about love. How much I love you, how much I love Mom and Luke, how much I love Kale, I just- I don't know."

"Really?" He asked, "Because I was kind of thinking about how I'd like to have one."

"One what?" She asked, distractedly.

"A baby. I think I want to have kids, eventually. You know, after we get married."

Clary propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. She cocked her head to one side and stared wonderingly at his beautiful golden eyes. "I was kind of thinking the same thing, Jace," she murmured back.

For six months, everything was perfect. Then Clary's cell phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and saw her mother's number splayed across the screen. She flipped it open and starting chattering into it. Then she heard a scream. Jace, sitting next to her, heard it also. She bolted upright and stared at Clary anxiously.

"Clary! You- The baby! - Luke- Help! HELP! Please-" The phone call was riddled with static and panic. Clary screamed and started running, Jace right behind her. She scrabbled for her stele and drew a Portal on the wall. She dove through it, not caring about her own personal safety. The icy feeling of overwhelming panic and dread swept through her, and suddenly she was at Luke and Jocelyn's apartment. The stench of demon was overwhelming. So was the smell of blood and death. Jace was behind, her, dragging her towards the house. Once inside, the first thing she saw was Jocelyn's lifeless body, still clutching her phone. The body was nearly unrecognizable. The clothes were rent to shreds, her body itself was broken, her arms and legs were sticking at awkward angles. Blood was everywhere, still oozing from the many deep cuts and stabs all over Jocelyn's body.

_So much blood… _Clary thought, sickening herself even more. She turned her head to the side and retched, emptying her stomach. She fell to her knees at her mother's side, weeping uncontrollably. "Jace, Jace where are you?" She called through the hiccupping sobs.

"CLARY! Come here, now!" She heard him scream from the bedroom. She clumsily got up and raced toward him. She paused at the doorway, not wanting to witness another scene like the one she had just come from. "Clary, please! Come here!" He cried out again.

She walked in, holding her breath. In Jace's arms was Luke, badly broken and bleeding, almost a mirror of Jocelyn, but he was still alive. Clary slid on her knees towards him, while telling Jace to get the Silent Brothers. "Hurry!" She screamed after him as he raced to the Portal still open in the front room. She grabbed at Luke, pulling his head into her lap and willing him to stay alive.

"Come on, breath dammit." She muttered. Luke's eyes fluttered open again and his lips formed the question Clary did not want to answer.

"Jocelyn…" He could barely speak.

Clary shook her head.

"No. No." Luke gasped and struggle against Clary, but she held him tighter. Then Luke did something Clary thought was impossible. He started to cry. Then he gasped again, "Kale?" He asked hoarsely. "Where is Kale?"  
>"In the bassinet, he's fine," Clary answered him through her tears, not knowing if what she said was the truth or not. She didn't care.<p>

"Take care of him…. Cla-" Luke's words broke off in the middle of her name. His breath exhaled from his mouth and he died in Clary's arms. She started screaming, cursing, crying, anything she could do to get rid of the pain. Eventually, she grew quiet, simply holding Luke's stiffening body. "I will find whoever did this to, Luke. I will make them pay for this."

She heard her name called. It was Jace; he crashed into the room and froze when he saw her and Luke. Brother Zachariah was behind him, impassive as ever.

"What-" Jace started.

Clary cut him off. "He's dead. He died when you were gone." Her face still had not changed from the blank stare it held. "Where is Kale?" She asked in a monotone. Jace looked around helplessly.

"I don't, I don't know."

"Check the bassinet. That's what I told Luke."

Kale was sleeping peacefully in his crib, untouched by the horrific events that had taken place only a few moments ago.

Barely a week had passed. The funeral was to take place at the Institute. Clary was still unable to process what had happened. She moved like a robot, slept when she was told to, ate when food was presented. She was dead inside. She could not feel anything. When Mayrse handed Kale to her, she could not hold him. She existed in a comatose existence. It was not until the funeral pyre was lit that Clary showed any emotion. She turned to Jace's shoulder and cried. After the funeral, she locked herself in one of the Institute's many bedrooms and cried until she was spent. After this, she slept for three days. When she woke up, she showered, dressed and ate, then roamed the halls of the Institute looking for the one person she knew could make her feel better. She found Jace in their room, and when she walked in, he sat up straight on the bed and said her name out loud. She said nothing in return; she just walked over and sat next to him before sadly smiling up at him.

"I'm sorry," was all she said. He wrapped his arms around her and murmured in her ear, "You have nothing to be sorry for. Clary, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say," he continued his embrace, even when he felt a tear drop on his shoulder. She leaned into him, suddenly pressing her lips to his in reckless abandon. She pushed him back on the bed until she was lying on top of him.

"Only mundane apologize for something they didn't do." She reminded him gently. He smiled, but doubts filled his mind. Clary curved her body around his and kissed him again, harder this time. He separated himself from her, pushing her away.

"Clary, you don't want to do this."

"Yes, I do," she retorted, her eyes growing fiery.

"No, you don't." He looked at her sadly before getting up from the bed and softly kissing her forehead. "Go to sleep." He murmured against her soft skin.

"I'm tired of sleeping. I'm tired of walking around like a zombie. I want to feel something! I am sick of everyone looking at me like that!" She screamed at Jace.

He just looked at her sadly as he backed out of the door.

She collapsed crying again, drowning her sorrows in the pillow.

When she awakened the next morning, Clary felt better. She stretched, feeling her joints pop and crack. She twisted underneath the blanket, her hand searched for Jace; then she remembered what had happened last night. She sat and raked her fingers through her hair, removing it from her eyes. She tossed the covers back and got up, pulling her jeans on. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a piece of paper taped to the door. Out of curiosity, she reached for it and took it down. She stared in disbelief at what the note said.

_Clary,_

_I love you so much, and I need you to know that. Please, please, please forgive me for what I am about to do. I am so sorry, but last night proved that you need to be alone for a while. I don't think that I can watch you walk around in anguish. I'm leaving. I won't tell you where; I don't want you to follow me. I will come back, eventually, but right now, we need to be apart. I have never felt as helpless as last night. I think that we both should move on, just for a few years. I'll come back for you eventually. Please forgive me. I love you._

_All My Love,_

_Jace._

Clary's heart broke again.

She went in search of Isabelle, finding her and the rest of the family in the dining room. She wordlessly held the note out to them, each of them read it.

"Where's Kale at?" She asked hesitantly.

"Clary, do you want to talk-"

"No," Clary cut Mayrse off, "No. I just want to see my brother. Jace told me to move on, so that is what I plan on doing."

"Kale is in the room across from yours," Clary could see the pain in Mayrse's eyes; they had grown closer over the past two years. Clary knew that Mayrse cared very deeply about her, "I was just about to go get him."

"I'll go." Clary said with finality, "I'm going to take care of him from now on. I'm not his mother, but," she paused to take a deep breath, "but I'm the only family he has now. Can- can we still live here?" Clary asked, not daring to hope.

"Of course you will." Isabelle retorted, "And we will all help with the baby. He likes me the best, of course, but that just shows he has good taste." Isabelle tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder proudly before smiling at Clary. "We will anything we can to help you."

Clary's small smile came and went quickly. She turned and walked toward Kale's new nursery. When she arrived, she saw him looking up at her with those expressive dark green eyes, as if to say, "You're not my mom, where is she? Where is my dad?"

"I guess it's just us from now on, kiddo."

**Wow… all 2833 words of the first chapter. The basic summary of this story is: Jocelyn and Luke get killed, Jace leaves, and Clary is left caring for her six month old brother. Pretty salty stuff, huh? Anyway, she goes a little crazy, trying to find the demon responsible, and it turns out that this other dude, Beck, is looking for the same demon. They fall in love, but five years later, something happens. **

**Want to know what happens? Well, it's a secret. Got to read to find out. Muwahahaha….**

**Note: I know that Downworlders cannot have children, so before you go psycho on me for screwing with Cassie Clare's mythology, listen to this. In **_**Clockwork Angel,**_** when Tessa is reading the Codex and finds out that she allegedly can't have kids, it says that there are no known exceptions. Get this people: LUKE IS AN EXCEPTION! Plus, we all know that Luke is pretty special. **

**Anyway, I really love reviews. Tell me if you love it, hate it, want to kill me for writing this, et cetera, et cetera. Leave me some love and I will give you a spoiler from the next chapter. Yes, I love reviews so much that I have resorted to bribery. **

**Also, as you can see, I have changed my penname. It was Stephenie-Meyer-Addicted, but now it is SpeakNow1118.**

GHhhhhhhhhhHH[J


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the love you guys! I got like, twelve Story Alerts and several reviews for just the first chapter. You guys are awesome!**

_Jace is gone._

Clary's mind repeated those three words over and over again; a never-ending mantra of grief and despair that chorused in her head as if it would never cease. _Why did Fate chose to step in and rip him away right now? Why now, of all the times in my life, why did it choose to mock me now? First Mom and Luke, then Jace… _Clary could not stop thinking. She could take a small amount of relief in the fact that Jace was still alive, at the very least. If he was still alive, then the world was a better, brighter place. The fact that he was still alive was a two headed snake; however, it meant that he had left her willingly, even after promising her that he would never go, that he loved her, and that he would be faithful until the end.

Part of her just wanted to die. She wanted to end the pain and suffering she was bearing, both the physical and emotional. Being away from Jace literally brought her pain; it was like a giant hole had been ripped through her chest, and she was miserable. Between the anguish of missing Jace and the anguish of the death of her parents…

A sob tore from her throat. _Mom… Luke… _She forced her emotions back. She would not show weakness. Not in front of Isabelle, not in front of Alec, not in front of Robert or Mayrse. Especially not in front of Kale. Clary would not let her brother see her give up. She would push on and be strong, even if her whole world was crumbling down. Kale made her strong.

She felt an almost maternal pull toward the child; he was sort of able to speak now. He could say Clary; even though the name's true form was shrouded in baby talk. In the month that had passed since their parent's death (for Clary looked at Luke as her father in every way except blood), Kale had taken his first tottering step, aided by Clary. When he had said his first word, "Mama," Clary's heart broke. She was proud of him though. In a book she had once read, she learned that most children do not learn to walk and talk until they were older than the slight seven months that Kale was.

_Luke was right- this kid _is _special. _Clary smiled to herself as she picked Kale up from the floor and asked him if he was hungry. Even though he could speak a few words, he was far from being able to answer questions and hold a conversation. Still, Clary continually tried. She placed Kale on her hip and walked to the dining room, where she was nearly trampled by Isabelle.

"_There_ you are! I was just about to go looking for you! We have a visitor! Well, not actually a visitor, I mean, he's here to stay for a while. And he is so cute. I mean, really, really adorable. In fact, he's just plain gorgeous-" Barely coherent, Isabelle could hardly get the words out. The usually porcelained skin girl was flushed, her skin pink with excitement.

"Izzy, stop," Clary interrupted, putting her free hand up to ward off the solid wall of words that was currently erupting from Isabelle's mouth, "What are you talking about?"

Isabelle glanced at Clary impatiently, frustrated at the younger girl's inability to comprehend was she was saying.

"We have a guest. His name is Beck." She spoke slowly, enunciating each word as though Clary were mentally challenged. Clary clucked her tongue impatiently.

"Oh, fine." Isabelle retorted. "His name is Beck; he's from Idris, here on a mission. He's going to stay with us for a while. He has official documents from the Clave. He's in there if you want to see him." Isabelle wandered off, dreamily murmuring, "Absolutely gorgeous… What I wouldn't give to take him to my room for a few hours…"

Clary shook her head and snickered. "We'll just leave Aunt Isabelle to her thoughts, won't we, Kale?"

Kale just looked at her expectantly. Clary sighed, whispering, "Okay, let's get some lunch, shall we?" Clary pushed open the door and casually strolled in. Then she paused. Isabelle was right. Beck was drop-dead gorgeous. And he knew it. The way he carried himself screamed that he knew about his good looks. But he did not seem arrogant. Not yet at least.

He was indifferently leaning against the wall, drinking a cup of coffee. He wore a light blue thermal shirt underneath a black, hooded blazer. His faded jeans were perfectly fitted to his contoured body, and they were faded in _all _the right- or wrong- places. Clary swallowed hard and forced her eyes upward to his handsome face. He had a strong, square jaw that was framed with dark brown hair. Two perfectly set deep brown eyes demanded her attention away from his half-formed smile. One crooked eyebrow was cocked at her as he looked from her face, to Kale's face, to Robert and Maryse, and back to her face.

"I thought you only had two children?" Beck asked, a slight air of confusion marred his beautiful face.

"Um, sorry. Don't mind me." Clary spoke nervously as she edged toward the kitchen, "I'll just be a minute. Had to get some lunch for myself and the little guy. Go back to your business."

Robert blinked, then said to Clary, "Don't be ridiculous, Clarissa, this isn't business, and you aren't interrupting. Please, sit down." He waved his hand toward one of the fancier dining chairs and continued, "May I introduced Master Beckett Cartwright?"

"Pretentious, I know." _My exact thoughts, _Clary thought. "Please, just call me Beck." He detached himself from the wall, switched his coffee to his left hand to reach out with his right and shook Clary's proffered, though somewhat shaky hand.

"Clarissa Fray, but please, call me Clary." He shook her hand firmly for a moment before stepping back to examine her more thoroughly.

"Fray, did you say?" He asked. When she nodded, he countered, "So you aren't Robert and Mayrse's child?"

"Not biologically," Mayrse offered, observing the proceedings with much interest.

"Very interesting," Beck looked at Clary with a thoughtful face, "I shall look forward to getting to know you." Beck resumed lounging against the wall as he seemed to notice Kale again. "Cute kid." He said with a slight smirk on his face. "Is he yours?"

At this impertinent questions, Clary's eyebrows shot up as she gave him a once-over. _I guess I was wrong, _she thought, _very arrogant, he seems to be. _"My brother." She answered in a clipped tone, "Do you have any kids that we should know about?"

The Lightwood's eyes flew open; Mayrse stifled a gasp, Alec, who had sneaked in behind Clary and gone to the table, stifled a laugh.

Beck laughed outright as he answered, "No, I'm only twenty."

"I'm only eighteen." Clary retorted as she spun on her heel to go to the kitchen. She grabbed what she needed and retreated, saying, "If you need me, I'll be with my _brother," _placing special emphasis on the last word (she noted that Beck chortled when she did), "In my room." She looked at Alec, who was sitting in one of the chairs with perfect posture and directed her next question to him, "Are we still on for our training session this afternoon?"

"As soon as I get back from Magnus's."

As Clary left the room, she heard, with some reluctant satisfaction, Beck laughingly say. "I think I'm going to like her."

Clary just rolled her eyes.

Later that evening, Clary was preparing for her training with Alec. She preferred to train with him because, though Isabelle was a great fighter, she got tired of training very quickly. Alec, it seemed, could go on forever.

Clary was wearing the informal training gear – a pair of loose sweatpants and a tank top – when she strode in to the training room and shut the door behind her. She took a deep breath and tried not to let the memories of Jace overtake her. She could see it so clearly: talking to Simon while practicing balance, Jace leaping to cut the safety rope, falling on top of him, kissing him like there was nothing in the world but those two… She sighed wistfully. It was time to move on. She saw, from the corner of her eye, a shadow fall and land near her. She ducked backwards, throwing a bare foot out toward whatever was attacking her. The kick was easily dodged and the assailant grabbed her foot. She instantly lunged forward, and he yelled – the cry was definitely masculine – pushing the man backwards and falling on top of him, knees on either side of his chest with her hand at his throat.

It was Beck.

"Oh, it's just you." Clary sniffed, then got up from where she was straddling him.

"Oh, please feel free to stay as you were, I had a lovely view." Beck replied haughtily.

"Don't make me kick you again."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." He pushed himself off of the ground a stood before her, glancing at her gear, seemingly unimpressed before he added, "Alec has been delayed; say hello to your new training buddy." He smiled, half lazily, half cockily.

Clary sighed in exasperation, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling, "That's really awesome," she whispered sarcastically, "that is so great. Just what I needed today."

Beck looked wounded, "That hurts, Clary. That cut me to the quick."

"You'll live," Clary replied, rolling her eyes.

"Well, since you seem to have no desire to train with me," Beck said as he plopped on the floor, "why don't you sit down and talk to me?" When he saw the look on Clary's face, he added, "Torture though it may be." He folded his legs Indian-style and looked up at her expectantly. "Come on, I'm not all that bad. Really."

"Fine," Clary said, crossing her arms and sinking down to the floor.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean any offense by it. In Idris, people my age are married with two or three kids by now, so forgive me if I thought you were married. You're certainly pretty enough to be…" Beck's words trailed off, and he wiggled his eyes suggestively.

Clary shook her head, but she smiled. "Okay, so here I am, what do you want to talk about."

"Well, you could ask me about my very interesting childhood."

"Go on." She sniffed, waving her hand royally at him.

He laughed at her gestured and she smiled.

"Well, I was born and raised in Idris; my parent's names were William and Joanna. I'm nineteen…" he continued on, but something caught Clary's attention.

"Wait, were?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You said 'were.'"

"They died." His reply was short and to the point.

"Oh," she felt like an idiot, "I- I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"It's alright." His face was sad now.

"How long ago did they-"

"Two months," he answered, already knowing her question.

"I'm so sorry."

"They were murdered. By a demon. Now I'm looking for that demon. And when I find it, I'm going to kill it slowly. It tortured my parents, and it will feel their pain."

Alarm bells were ringing in Clary's head.

"Tortured?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yes. I was gone, out with some friends, you know," he raked his shaking hands through his dark hair, pushing it out of his eyes, "and when I came home – we were staying in Chicago at the time – they were dead. They had been brutally tortured," he paused to take a deep breath, "I came home, walked in the door and-" he broke off, and Clary reached out to take his hand. He smiled at her and continued, "they were dead. I could smell the blood, and the demon stench. When I found them, they were broken," his voice was hollow now as he kept talking, "their arms and legs were grotesquesly broken and twisted. They had been stabbed, cut, burned, you name it, it happened to them."

Clary's fingers, which had been soothingly stroking Beck's hands froze and she gasped.

"What?" He asked, alarmed now.

"That's how I-" It was her turn to pause now, "that's how I found my parents. They were murdered by a demon a month ago. And it sounds like it's the very same one."

Beck looked at her silently. "You must have loved them very much."

"Yes, I did. But you loved your parents too. I know just how you feel."

"Yes, I would imagine that you do," He murmured in her ear, leaning closer and closer. She leaned towards him, closing her eyes and parting her lips very softly. His lips were almost at hers when she leaned back.

"Beck, please. Please don't do this to me. I'm not ready yet." She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears.

He leaned away after tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Who?" He asked. He needed to say nothing more, he knew exactly what kind of pain she was feeling at this moment.

She scrubbed her hand across her eyes before she trusted her voice to answer. "An old boyfriend." She replied, "He left after my parents were killed. He couldn't handle it."

Beck muttered a string of words that rhymed with "mastered" and "ducking glassmole." Clary smiled, despite herself.

"I don't blame him. I was certifiable." She smiled her words. "He said he'd be back, but I don't think that's gonna happen anymore."

She sat up straighter and looked at him happily.

"Tell me more about yourself!" She exclaimed, "You've got me interested now." He just looked at her incredulously. She prompted him with the words, "You were born and raised in Idris, son of William and Joanna…"

He smiled and laid back, propping himself up on one arm. "I was a good kid, you know? Father's dream, mother's pride and joy." Clary rolled her eyes again, he laughed and continued, "I was a pretty good student, but I was much better when I was actively training. And, being an only child, I was pretty spoiled. My parents indulged me. They got me all the pets I ever asked for, weapons too. But they didn't let me get a big head. I was disciplined pretty strictly." He started playing with her hand again, and looked up at her. "And that is basically the story of my life; a parent's dream child, good soldier, famous lady-killer."

Clary interjected with a loud, "HA!"

Beck made a face. "So what about you, Clarissa Morganstern?"

Clary started at the spoken name.

"Yes, I know who you are."

"Well, then you pretty much know my life's story. My mom ran away when she was pregnant with me, raised me as a single mom here in Brooklyn. Every year, she would have Magnus Bane erase all memories of any glamours I saw through. Then I met Izzy, Alec and Jace at Pandemonium, a nightclub for teenagers, where they killed a demon, and after that, things got complicated."

She paused here, and Beck prompted her with an, "I'm listening."

"Well, Jace and I fell in love, but it turned out we were siblings… kind of. It turned out that we weren't, and so we were together until a month ago, but that's not the story I'm telling. Valentine kidnapped my mother and held her hostage, Sebastian (my real brother) almost killed me, all the Lightwoods, Jace, my mother and a whole lot of other people to try to please Valentine, and it all culminated in the last battle in Idris a little over two years ago, where I drew the Alliance rune."

"Wow." Beck said. One word, was all he said.

_Oh, great, now I've probably scared him off. That's awesome. Really great. _Clary thought.

"I was at that battle." Beck looked up suddenly with a radiant smile on his face, "I remember a red headed girl that drew that rune, uniting me with a werewolf from Lucian Greymark's pack. I remember how beautiful I thought she was, but the face faded from my memory. We probably met and talked, and we never realized it." Beck's short laugh drew Clary's attention.

"What?" She giggled.

"I was just barely old enough to fight," he replied, "I had just turned eighteen. I remember being scared, but excited. Then, when you runed me, I remember I was going to gather up the balls to come and ask you out after the battle was over, but I never saw you again."

Clary laughed, and after a moment, Beck joined in.

"You're sweet," Clary smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I know. I'm a famous lady-killer, remember?"

They laughed again.

"So I matched you with one of Luke's pack members?"

Beck was lying on his back now, looking up at her face and playing with her fingers.

"Luke?" He asked quizzicably.

"Lucian," Clary corrected, "I'm sorry, I knew him as Luke. He's- or, he was, my stepfather."

Beck cursed out loud.

"I didn't realize. He was a good man."

"I know. I loved him. He was the only father I knew." Clary smiled sadly down at their intertwined fingers. "My brother in there, Kale, that's Luke's son. Luke and my mom got married right after that battle, when I was sixteen. Kale came alone just after I turned eighteen, and six months later, here we are." Clary shrugged helplessly, "I'm the only family he's got now."

Beck sat up and looked her in the eyes. "You are a great sister." He said determinedly. She smiled. His hand cradled her face and they sat looking at each other for a few moments.

"Clary," he whispered.

"Yes, Beck?" she whispered back.

"Do you- I feel-"

"Like we've know each other for a long time?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Me too."

"Good." He smiled.

"Clary?" he added on to the single syllable he had just spoken.

"Yes?" She answered again.

"Would you hate me if I tried to kiss you again?"

"No."

Their lips met. It was a long time before they parted, and when they did, it was only because there was a cough at the door.

Alec and Isabelle stood there, mimicking each other's posture: arms crossed, feet apart, shoulders back, eyebrows arched.

"Canoodling, Clary?" Isabelle asked with blatant disbelief on her face.

"Shut up, Isabelle." Clary replied, scowling at her sister, her _parabatai_.

Alec smirked, asking if they were quite ready to train yet.

**So there you have it, second chapter. Might I also add, this is two chapters in two days, a FIRST for me? Haha. And at 3,105 words, I also think that this is the longest chapter I have ever written.**

**So, what will happen with Clary and Beck? With Clary and Jace? Will Jace even ever come back? Come a little closer and I will tell you. Closer. Closer….**

**YOU'LL HAVE TO READ TO FIND OUT!**

**Hehehe…. I'm evil, I know.**

**Remember, reviews are like crack to me, they make me go faster. And, because I am shameless, I'll make this announcement: Anyone who reviews this chapter will get a spoiler for the next chapter! Yes, that's right. I'm begging. **

**Next chapter tomorrow? I'm on a roll, baby!**

**Peace and Love!**


	3. Chapter 3

**To my wonderful readers: YA'LL ARE SICK! (In a good way.) I have not gotten a single, solitary bad review yet. You have no idea how much that motivates me. And all the reviews are amazing. A shout out to lukeiamursister for calling this the best fanfic ever! (You are my new favorite person! Hahahaha) Actually, I have to give a shout out to everyone who reviewed… This chapter would not be up this soon if it wasn't for you. You guys are AWESOME. And thanks for the Beck love. **

**Also, I wanted to make it known that anyone who reviews **_**will **_**receive an answer from me, regardless of how long or short the review is. And I will also leave a spoiler from the next chapter in every review. Also, if you ever want to email me or private message me, my email account name is on my profile. I love to hear your comments and questions on any of my stories and I would love to answer them. **

**But now, you guys are probably sick of hearing me talk and want me to get on with the story telling, so here it goes!**

Four weeks had passed since Beck had arrived, and Clary had no problems admitting to herself that she was in love. The problem was that she had no idea how Beck felt. True, they'd had several hot and heavy make out sessions since that night in the training room, but that was no indicator of how he really felt. She was trying to keep herself occupied, but her thoughts kept returning to Beck. When she heard a soft set of footsteps behind her, she whirled and bashed her hand off of the corner of the counter.

She cursed and grabbed at it. It was bleeding profusely now. A heavy sigh sounded from the rude intruder.

"Must you always injure yourself?" The deep voice asked in a mock-weary voice.

It was Beck. Clary bit her lip to keep from smiling too big.

"Well, believe me when I say that my clumsy nature is _not_ my first choice." Clary made a face at him as he was walking towards her, pulling his stele from one of the loops on his belt. He held out his hand expectantly, and she reached for it.

He carefully traced an _iratze_ on the back of her hand, then lifted it to his mouth and softly caressed the injured skin with his lips.

"I think you're just playing me. Playing the fair damsel in distress that the kind, gentle, noble, fair, sexy-as-hell knight in shining armor needs to rescue."

Clary snorted in a sarcastic manner as she yanked her hand away and resumed what she was doing, albeit somewhat breathlessly. He chuckled as he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the soft skin on the back of her neck.

"Clary-" he started, but broke off mid-sentence.

"Hmm?" she asked, somewhat distractedly.

"I, uh, I need to talk to you."

"So talk. I'm listening." She trailed off when he tucked her head underneath his chin.

"I'm not having any luck with this demon. I think that the Clave wants me to move on. They really want me to get this mother-"

Clary, her face white and pinched, whirled and cut him off in the middle of his word.

"Leave?" She asked frantically, "You can't leave, you just got here! Things like this take time. You have to give it time, you can't leave." She stumbled over her words, not being able to get them out fast enough. She turned back to the sink as she added in a very small voice, "I don't want you to leave."

Though she could not see it, Beck smiled. This was exactly the reaction he had wanted. He reached for her once more, taking her gently into his arms and kissing the top of her head.

"I don't want to leave, either. If they want me gone, they're going to have to rip me away from you with bodily force. And even then, I'll go down fighting."

He kissed the top of her head again and she pulled him against her even more tightly.

"Clary," He only said her name once, but it got her attention, and she looked up into his eyes as he continued talking, "This demon is high priority to the Clave. They weren't kidding when they said that they wanted it put down."

"I agree." She spoke softly, but the words were determined, "I'm going with you. And that's final."

"What?" His voice was flat.

"I said, 'I'm going with you, and that's final." Her words had an edge of steel to them now, "This creature didn't just take your parents; it took mine too. And he took Kale's parents. That's the worst part. I, at least, can remember them. But Kale? He will never know them. And that's not fair. I want this thing. I want it bad. You and I make a good team," here she shrugged, as if she was commenting on the weather, not potentially leading to the part of the conversation where she admitted that she loved him. "And," she kept going, "together we should be able to track it, find it, and kill it."

Beck grinned. Then the smile faded and he looked into her eyes with a passion that scared her a little. "Clary, I need to tell you something," he paused, and in that hesitation, he lost his nerve, so he continued with something a little different than he had originally intended. "Clary, I was hoping you would say that. We would make a great team."

She looked up at him, knowing that at the last second he had changed him mind about something.

"Let's get this mother chicken." She said in a very set tone of voice.

Beck sniggered at her choice of words.

"Mother chicken?" He was laughing outright at her now.

She pouted, trying to defend herself. "I made a resolution not to swear in front of Kale anymore." She looked at Kale purposefully, who sitting in his high chair quietly observing the scene playing out in front of him, "He repeated something the other day that would make even you blush, Beck."

He released her, laughing loudly, and walking away called over his shoulder, "That's why I love you, Clary. I'll alert the Clave to our plans." He was still laughing as he walked away.

Clary, on the other hand, was frozen in her tracks. _He said 'love,' and he said it first…_

"You heard, that, right buddy?" She asked Kale as handed him the small bowl of food.

Beck, lying shirtless on his bed, was silently cursing himself. Why hadn't he just said it? Well, he had said it at the end of the conversation. But that didn't count, because he had said it while he was laughing, and women never take it seriously if you're laughing when you drop the "L word." He fisted his hands and pressed them to his eyes, then raked his fingers through his thick locks.

Then he decided to be impulsive. Not that impulsiveness was completely foreign to him.

He got up from his recumbent position and threw his door open, rushing into the hallway, only to see Clary staring at him with wide eyes. It was then that he realized he was wearing only his boxers. She visibly shook herself and opened her mouth to speak.

"I need to tell you something-" they both spoke at the same time.

"You go first. No, you go first!" They spoke at the same time again.

Beck took two long strides forward toward her and placed his long index finger on her lips, shushing her.

"I need to tell you something. I've been thinking about it for a while, but I think it's high time that I just came out with it, and let you know. I think that you probably already know what I'm going to say because you're a woman and-"

It was Clary's turn to place a finger on his lips.

"I love you." She said simply.

Beck looked at her for a long moment before he responded.

"That's exactly what I was going to say."

Their lips met at the same time.

Later on that night, Clary tried to creep back to her own room very quietly, so as not to arouse suspicion. It was very late, and Clary thought that everyone had returned to had retired to bed. So, understandably, when Isabelle mysteriously appeared from behind the shadow of the wall and assaulted her with questions, Clary was surprised and had to stifle a scream.

"So," Isabelle asked, studiously studying her nails, "what were you up to? In Beck's room? Late at night?" The questions were incessant.

Clary put her hand up, trying to quiet Isabelle.

"We were just talking," Clary huffed, "We didn't do anything else."

"Sure, sure…" Isabelle was flexing her fingers in front of her face and trying, in vain, to look bored, "I was interested, but I guess you can have him. He's only mildly attractive, anyway." She sniffed as she walked away.

Clary rolled her eyes and shook her head as she moved on towards her room. She looked down and smiled, thinking about what had taken place that night.

Beck told her he loved her. She was still high off of that drug, but something gnawed at her stomach. She strode into her room and flopped on her bed, too tired to change from her shorts and cotton shirt to her pajamas.

Beck loved her. She buried her face in her pillow in a futile attempt to contain her joy. It didn't work. She rolled over onto her back and spread out on the bed. She knew what the gnawing feeling was, but she didn't want to give it a name. Her heart and mind disobeyed.

Its name was Jace.

Jace was a constant presence in that deep recess of her mind. It consumed her, hurt her, and punished her. She loved Beck, but she loved Jace too. There was no escaping that fact. '

But would Jace ever come back? Isabelle had once said that he never lied; at least, he never lied about the important things in life.

Was she an important thing?

She had thought so. _I mean, we talked about getting married, having kids, moving into our own apartment. Isn't that serious? Isn't that important?_

Apparently not to Jace. She did not know if he would ever be back, and at this point, dare she say it, she didn't care. She instantly regretted that thought. The guilt consumed her. They had been through so much together. Life and death – literally! How does one just simply walk away from that?

She didn't know. She didn't care.

At this point, all that matter was her and Beck and Kale.

This was the thought on her mind as she passed into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Over the next few days, Beck and Clary bonded even more over their demon-hunting. They spent every minute together. Beck was quickly growing attached to Kale as well, going as far as babysitting on the occasional afternoon and going with Clary and Kale on their daily walk.

He knew he might be getting in over his head, but he did not care. He loved that woman, and he didn't care who knew. He had grown to love Clary and her surrogate "son." He knew without a doubt that when Jace (his face contorted a little as he thought the name) left, it had broken Clary. He took great pleasure in the fact that he was the one to mend the girl. In a way, he thanked Jace (whoever he was and wherever he was) for leaving, because it gave him the opportunity to know and love Clary.

_I don't know what she's thinking, _he thought, _but if her attachment is half as deep as mine, I'm a lucky man." _

Little did he know that she was thinking the same thing.

One day, on their daily walk, Beck vocalized his thoughts.

Clary agreed, thinking to herself, _I haven't been this happy in a long time._

She smiled again to herself and hugged Kale to her chest tightly. Beck leaned over and pecked her cheek.

She couldn't help but think that this was how a family should act. And who knew? Maybe in a few years, she would be holding a baby that Beck and she had made out of love for one another. The thought excited her and she smiled even more brightly.

**Ok, so that is the third chapter. A lot of fluff I know, but the heavy chapters are coming up soon. Stay tuned! I can't believe I got this chapter finished. It's totally you guy's fault! Hahaha. **

**As mentioned above, everyone that reviews will get a personal reply and a spoiler from the next chapter. Keep it awesome!**

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


	4. Chapter 4

**lukeiamursister and jemsrwe are the awesomest people in the world. all I'm gonna say for right now because I know you guys are sick of hearing me talk. Oh, just a general time clarification. At the beginning of the story, two years had gone by, making Clary eighteen and Jace nineteen or twenty. Beck was eighteen in the final battle, making him twenty now. In the first chapter, six months had gone by when Jocelyn and Luke were killed. Another month went by when Beck came, and now three months have passed. In total, ten months have passed since the beginning of the story. In this chapter, a long amount of time will have passed by the end. Cool? Cool.**

Over the past three months, Beck had revolutionized the Institute. They had upgraded Sensors, new training equipment, just to name a few. Beck had been directly trained by some of the best and brightest of all the living Shadowhunters, and he in turn had trained Clary, Isabelle and Alec in some of the more recent fighting styles. He was easily one of the best fighters any of the New Yorkers had ever seen, with or without weapons.

But he wasn't just a fighter, he was a lover too.

He and Clary had spent nearly every waking minute together, and they could not stop. Clary fell even more and more in love with Beck, and Beck obviously reciprocated her feelings. After a few weeks of sneaking around, Clary had boldly suggested that he simply move into her room.

"I thought you would never ask," was his reply, right before he smiled and leaned in for a kiss.

Beck was so kind and gentle with Kale; he would get down on the floor and play with Kale, sing silly songs made up off of the top of his head, take care of Kale when Clary was busy – Beck was perfect in every way, shape and form. He had many different faces, but unlike others with many personalities, all of Beck's sides were good.

And to top it all off, Beck was really sexy.

Clary had perfection in her arms, or rather, her hands, as she was currently holding hands with the most perfect man in the world. Unfortunately, she would have to let go when they reached Pandemonium. Robert and Mayrse had received a tip that a lower-level demon was abducting, murdering and dumping the bodies of teenagers. The demon only attacked once every other month; but it was of the utmost importance that they killed the demon now. Every time the demon fed, it grew stronger and stronger.

But they were confident. Four excellent Shadowhunters against a lower-level demon? Not a problem.

When they had arrived, Alec traced an Unlocking Rune on the rear door while the other three stood watch. Even outside of the building, Clary could feel the thudding of the bass. As soon as Alec had finished, he stood and pushed the door open cautiously. Pulling out a seraph blade, he whispered a name, "_Israfel,"_ and motioned for the other three to come closer. They all strode in, looking around. Beck pulled Clary out to the dance floor, where he stood behind and wrapped his arms around her. They started dancing, and Clary wove her arms up over her head and around Beck's neck. She wasn't fooled by the display of affection, though. She knew that the dance floor provided the best view of the club. She looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. She could see Isabelle buying a drink in the far corner, her arms covered in Runes and her whip wrapped up her arm. Isabelle had been here all of five minutes and she already had a crowd of hormonal teenaged boys around her. Alec was standing across from Clary and Beck. Just then, a girl that looked about Clary's age walked up and tapped Beck on his shoulder.

She was hardly wearing any clothing at all, Clary noted with disgust. Her black miniskirt was only six inches wide; it barely covered her hips. Her low cut neon pink tube top left little to the imagination. She had cut geometric shapes in the side of the top, showing off her flat stomach. Her long legs were mostly covered with a pair of leather over the knee boots. She flipped her bleached blond hair over her shoulder, trying to be flirty. "Mind if I cut in?" She spoke seductively, expertly weaving her body back and forth around Beck.

Beck's arms tightened around Clary as he gave the girl a sneering once-over. "Actually, I do. I have my hands full right now."

The girl sneered right back. "Ditch that tramp and dance with me!" She desperately tugged on Beck's arm.

Beck looked at her, smiled, and then passionately kissed Clary.

The girl "humphed" and walked away stiffly.

Beck broke the kiss and looked after her, then looked at Clary. They both burst out laughing at the same time.

"That was quite pathetic, actually." Clary giggled as Beck started dancing with her again. The song changed and she turned into Beck's chest. She resumed surveying the dance floor. Then she noticed something strange. She allowed her eyes to relax, and easily seeing through the glamour, Clary spotted a hulking black beast outside of the ladies' room. She reached up to pull Beck's head down to speak in his ear.

"Look over at the bathroom. It's right there."

Beck looked and nodded.

"I'll get Alec."

"I'll get Izzy."

They moved toward the demon slowly, but it still saw them coming. It ducked behind the door and hid there. Beck started to push open the door, but Clary grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Killing the demon?" His voice had an air of confusion about it.

"That is the _ladies_ room. You can _not_ go in there."

A series of emotions flashed over Beck's face, from annoyance to anger back to annoyance.

"And why not?"

"Because it's the ladies room, stupid," Isabelle answer snappily, "It's just a lower-level demon. Clary and I can handle it just fine." She grabbed Clary's arm, dragging her away.

"Don't even try to argue, man." Alec offered glumly.

Beck crossed his arms and sulked, but Clary reached up and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

"Be right back, Babe." She smiled and let Isabelle tug her away.

As soon as the two girls were inside the bathroom, Isabelle softly asked if anyone was in the room. When no reply came, Isabelle pulled her whip from around her wrist. Clary removed one of her blades from her belt and smiled in anticipation. Isabelle kicked one of the stall doors open and motioned Clary to start at the other end. She complied and forced the stall open. Isabelle kicked the next door down and cried out, recoiling backwards while flicking her wrist to slash the attacker with her whip.

Clary ran down and joined her, throwing her seraph blade with a cry of "_Michael_!" It glowed in the dim light of the restroom as it buried itself in the demon's forehead. At least, that's what Clary thought it struck. It was not enough to actually kill the demon, though – unfortunately, it was just really pissed now now. The demon slithered forward, taking the shape of a snake.

"A shape-shifting demon? I thought it was lower-level!" Clary yelled. She turned her head enough to see Isabelle shrug her shoulders and smile evilly.

"The bigger they are…"

"The harder they fall!" Clary finished for her as she drew another seraph blade from her belt. She balanced it in her hand and forcefully hurled it at the demon. She heard pounding on the door; it was Beck and Alec, but Isabelle had kicked it shut and locked it.

"Just stay out of it!" Isabelle yelled out to them, but the pounding continued. Isabelle's hand flicked again, and the silver electrum wire was wrapped around the demon's throat. It lunged forward and grabbed Clary, wrapping the heavily muscled cords of its body around her. Her arms were pinned; she could not move. It continually tightened, effectively crushing Clary.

"Hurry, Izzy," Clary managed to choke out, she was beginning to see spots.

"Keep your shirt on," Isabelle remarked. With one final flick, the demon's head was removed from it's body; the whip slicing through the soft flesh as easily as a knife through butter. Blood and guts erupted from the body. Isabelle could hear the sizzle of flesh as the black slime burned their skin. Clary was worse off since she had been closer to the demon when it exploded; she was lying on the floor whimpering in pain from the burns that covered her body. Isabelle had to think fast; soon Clary would be too burned to be healed by a simple _iratze._ She moved to the sink and with one neatly placed kick, she had removed the faucet. She wrenched the tap open, flooding the sink with water. She moved to Clary, who was nearing unconsciousness. Isabelle lifted her up and removed her outer jacket, dipping the fabric in the water and clumsily wiped some of the blood from Clary's arms and face.

"Oh, you owe me one, Clarissa!" Isabelle was ticked now; it was her favorite jacket. She lifted Clary onto the counter and moved toward the door. She ran out and called for Alec; he was the best at _iratzes._

Beck's hand flew to his face and he hissed at the stench emanating from the Isabelle.

"What ha-"

Isabelle glared at him and he cut off.

"Alec, Clary needs to be healed. You're the best, so…"

Alec disappeared as Beck assaulted Isabelle with frantic questions.

"What happened? Why does she need healed? What was going on? Why were you yelling?" He grabbed her arms and stared at her in disbelief when she shushed him. Just then, Clary walked out of the restroom, heavily leaning on Alec. Beck immediately moved to her side and swept her up into his arms, his face contorted with worry as he examined the angry red burns that covered her arms and face.

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

Clary groaned, wincing as she rubbed her eyes, "I made a newbie mistake. I was standing too close when he blew up." She nuzzled her face into the crook of Beck's neck. It smelled very nice in there. Then suddenly, she lifted her head and scowled at Isabelle. "Next time, you're the bait."

Isabelle just rolled her eyes.

"Let's go. We just need," Clary shook her head, "Yeah, we need to go. I need a shower in the worst kind of way."

Beck shook his head in irritation, and Alec just stood back and smirked at the girls.

Alec and Isabelle wanted to walk back, but Beck and Clary opted to take a taxi to return to the Institute. Clary stood shakily, holding on to a nearby lamp post as Beck hailed a taxi. He helped her into the car before getting in. After he was situated, he wrapped his arm around Clary's shoulders and pulled her against his chest, softly stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head.

"You scared me." His voice was quiet, and Clary was not sure if she had heard him correctly. She sat up with some difficulty; her wounds were not yet healed. She knew it would still require a few hours of rest.

"Why?" She asked.

"Well, for starters," He sat up straight now, visibly upset, and started counting the reasons out on his fingers, "We didn't know much about this demon. He could have been anything, and it was. Clary, that demon was _not _a lower level. Second," he forced his index finger back so far that Clary was worried it would break. "Second," He repeated, his voice growing louder and louder, "You wouldn't let me help you. Third, you were hurt. Badly. Clary, if Isabelle wouldn't have been there, you would have died, Fou-"

Clary's lips cut him off.

When she pulled back, she replied, "It wasn't too much to handle, Beck. We didn't need any help, and Isabelle was there, so you don't need to worry. I'll be better in a few hours."

"But what if Isabelle wouldn't have been there?" His eyes were smoldering now, burning holes in her body. She reached up and cradled his face with her hand. He placed his hand on top hers and turned his face and kissed her palm.

"She was. That's all you need to worry about."

Their lips crashed together again.

Walking home, Isabelle and Alec were comfortably silent. That is, until Isabelle decided she was not happy being silent. She started chattering, asking Alec simple, inane questions, trying to fill the silence. She loved her brother, of course she loved him, but sometimes his lack of enthusiasm drove her insane.

"How's are you doing lately, Alec?"

"Fine."

"How's Magnus?"

"Fine."

"How's your training with Beck going?"

"Fine."

"Is that the only word you know?" She asked irritably.

"No."

"Are you getting paid by the word?"

"Funny, Is. Ha."

She shrieked at him, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Don't you dare laugh at me, Alexander. I'm very angry at you."

"I think I'll live."

This time, Isabelle flew at him, hitting, kicking, scratching, biting; anything she could do to hurt him. He easily grabbed her wrists and overpowered her. He pushed her aside, laughing.

"Calm down, Izzy. I was just kidding."

Isabelle "humphed," crossed her arms and walked away sullenly. Alec rolled his eyes and ran to catch up to her. When he reached his sister, he put an arm around her shoulders and said, "There's nothing really to tell. Magnus and I are fine; I haven't done anything exciting lately. Beck taught me a new style of fighting. That's it. There is nothing else."

Isabelle elbowed Alec in the ribs and hugged him.

"You're so stupid." She muttered.

Beck carried Clary into the Institute and laid her on the bed. His fingers delicately traced the fading _iratze_ on her shoulder before he leaned down and kissed it. Clary was already falling asleep when he got up and started to walk out of the room.

"No, don't go." She murmured sleepily, "Stay with me."

He came close again, kneeling on the bed and kissed her lips softly, whispering, "I'm just going to go check on Kale. I'll be right back."

"I love you." She whispered in his ear.

The sound of those words made him shiver, his hair tickling her face. "I love you too, Clary. I love you too."

By the time he returned to their room, Clary was fast asleep. He smiled at his girlfriend's sleeping form as he tugged his shirt over his head, pull on a pair of soft cotton shorts and crawled under the covers, shaping his body to every curve of hers.

_Five Years Later…_

Clary's eye flew open, and she sat up frantically. She looked around wildly for the clock, raking her fingers through her hair to get it out of her eyes. The small red numbers seemed to stare at her angrily, mocking her for her lateness. She cussed loudly and leapt from her bed and threw on the first set of clothes she came to – an electric neon blue minidress and a crisp blazer. She stumbled around in the dark, looking for some sort of usable footwear. Her hands found a pair of Converse and she tugged them on hastily, not caring about socks. She hastily dragged a comb through her long red hair while turning the flat iron on. She found the eyeliner while the straightener was heating up and messily applied it. She spared the fifteen minutes it took to straighten her naturally curly hair then unplugged the device and ran downstairs. Beck was waiting at the bottom, looking up at her with mild surprise.

"Damn you! Why didn't you wake me up? I'm so late for class now. I'm not even going to be able to eat!" She cursed again as she ran into the ill-placed coffee table at the bottom of the steps.

"I was just about to!" He protested. "Hey, guess what?" He asked, obviously excited.

Clary sighed, "I'm not really in a guessing mood, nor do I have time for it, right now." She was running about crazily, gathering up her art supplies and stuffing them into a backpack.

"Art class can wait a few minutes, can't it?" He asked, only half-joking. He knew how important her classes at NYU were to her.

Clary just shot him a look. Right at that moment, Kale, who was only half-dressed, came charging in the room.

"Clary, look at what I drawed!" He exclaimed happily, holding up a piece of paper with some scribbles on it.

"It's very nice, buddy. Save it and I'll look at it more when I get home, okay?"

"Kay!" He said and went running back the other direction.

Beck smiled and rolled his eyes, a common habit with him, before answering Clary's earlier question. "One of my old friends from Idris is in town. He's staying here for a while, until he decides what he's going to do from now on. He just stepped out, actually, right before you came in."

Clary, who had finally gathered everything she needed, looked up at him and replied, "Well, Babe, I'm going to have to meet him later. I barely have enough time to make it, even if I use the Portal." She pecked a kiss on his lips and ran towards the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a tall, blond man standing in the corner, but she did not have time to properly look at him as she dove into the portal and thought about the little alley right behind her classroom. "I'll get dinner on my way back!" She yelled over her shoulder.

Later on, after her four hour class was finished, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Beck's number. When he picked up, she asked what he wanted for dinner.

"I'm going to walk home, so I'll just stop somewhere and grab something. What are you in the mood for? Ask your friend too, he should have some say in it. And grab Kale too; see if anything is striking his fancy."

Beck muttered an affirmative, and Clary could hear him calling out their names. She couldn't quite distinguish the visitor's name, though.

"Just stop at Taki's." Beck replied a few minutes later. He rattled off the order and Clary started in the right direction. She figured it would take about a half an hour to get to the diner, and another half hour home. She couldn't help but think that making him wait for his food was Beck's just punishment for almost making her late.

Eventually, armed with food and art supplies, she arrived back at the Institute and was almost tackled by Kale, who was rejoicing over her arrival with the sustenance of Taki's food.

"Clary!" He yelled joyfully, "What did you bring me to eat?"

"Fried monkey brains." She replied, a serious look on her face.

"You always say that." He countered, rolling his eyes. Beck was certainly rubbing off on her brother, Clary thought. "Okay, let go of my leg so I can take Beck his food. You know how grumpy he gets when he's hungry," Clary said.

"I heard that." Beck's deep voice rumbled from the kitchen.

Kale giggled and tugged Clary's arm toward the kitchen.

"Come on! You have to meet Jonathan!"

Clary frowned. A blond Shadowhunter named Jonathan, who just happened to show up at the New York Institute? She shook it off. Coincidence, it had to be. She followed Kale into the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised to see the table was set for dinner for four.

"I see we're not eating straight out of the carton like savages, today?" Clary asked, placing the food on the table.

"I thought we could use our manners today, since we have a guest of honor in our midst." Beck laughingly kissed her, standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. Clary saw his fingers move towards the open carton of chocolate-covered pretzels that she had bought as a special treat for her boys. She slapped it away, saying "Not before you've washed your hands, and not until after you've eaten."

Beck mock-pouted and went to the sink, scooping Kale up and tickling him.

"Your sister wants us to wash up, little man." Beck ran the faucet as he held Kale with one arm, testing the water with his free hand, "And I don't think she will let us eat until we do!"

"Your girlfriend is so impossible sometimes." Kale said dramatically. Beck and Clary looked at each other and cracked up, laughing loudly at Kale's humor.

Behind her, Clary heard someone clear his throat. Beck and Kale looked up from their fake wrestling match and Beck got to his feet, declaring to Clary that his friend had arrived.

"May I introduce Jonathan Wayland?" He asked grandly, and Clary turned.

Clary gasped. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The plate she had been scooping food onto dropped, shattering and sending glass and noodles everywhere. She took another deep breath as her eyes widened to the point she worried they might fall from her head.

Standing before her was Jace.

Jace.

Jace, the tall, blond and handsome man she had fell in love with seven years ago. Jace, the man with whom she had shared so much of herself. Jace, the man who fell in love with her, underwent tribulation for her, died for her, even. Jace, the man who had left her five and a half years ago.

Jace was standing in her kitchen.

Jace was looking at her with an odd light in his eyes.

Now he was speaking to her.

"Hello, Clary." His musical voice had not changed. Five and a half years had done nothing to his voice.

Clary knew that Beck was watching curiously from his corner by the counter. "Clary?" He asked, worry in his voice.

If she heard him, she made no indication. Jace took a step towards her, and she involuntarily moved toward him. What she did next though, she was in complete control of.

He was fast, but she was finally faster. Her hand rocketed out towards him, connecting with his face with a sickening slap. He rocked backwards, fetching up hard against the doorway. His hand went to his cheek, shocked.

"I guess I probably deserved that." He said ruefully.

"Yes. And you deserve this too." Her hand came up, but it was all for show. As soon as his hand moved to block her, she snapped a high kick and caught him unaware in the gut.

His breath left him in a hurry, and he fell onto his back this time, landing hard with"oomph."

"You deserve a lot worse, _Jonathan._" Clary spoke in an acidic voice and moved to hit Jace again, but Beck was suddenly at her side, restraining her.

"Clary!" His voice was shocked, "what are you doing? Stop. Stop it, Clary. Stop fighting." He spoke low in her ear as she struggled against him. She ceased her futile movements and looked up at Beck with a frightening smile.

"Beck, may I introduce Jace Wayland/Morgenstern/Herondale/Lightwood to you?" Her eyes widened in fake surprise as recognition dawned on Beck's face. "I see you remember who I'm talking about."

Beck let her go, stumbling backwards.

"Jonathan?" He asked, his eyes begging for this not to be true.

Jace got to his feet and nodded, confirming Clary's accusations.

"Yes, I'm sure that whatever she's told you about me is true." His eyes were cast down and his tone of voice was sad, as though he were telling a young child that his beloved pet was dead. "I _am _that Jace. I left Clary five and half years ago. I promised I would come back though, and I did. You can't fault me for that." Jace's face had grown hopeful, as though his words could somehow redeem him.

Clary's harsh laugh broke the silence and she looked Jace square in the eye. "I can fault you for a lot, Jace. A whole lot more than you would care to know about." Clary looked down at the spilled food and broken plate again. "I think you should leave, Jace."

Jace looked at her and whispered her name.

"Beck, can I please speak to you in another room?" Clary asked, taking care to keep her face stoic. She felt miserable. She wanted to break down and cry.

Beck nodded. He looked miserable too. They both knew that she was going to have to make him choose between his girlfriend and his childhood best friend. For a moment, Clary almost felt bad.

But only for a moment.

**4,051 words. That's how much I love you guys. 4,051 words worth of love coming your way. I wasn't going to write today, but I decided that after all of the nice reviews I got, that I didn't want to let you guys down. I'm just nice like that I guess. ;) **

**So what do you think of Jace coming back the way he did? What do you think of the way Clary handled it? What about Beck? And Kale? What's going on, SpeakNow1118? What have you done?**

**Just kidding, kind of. But, these are the kinds of comments that you could potentially leave, you know, if you left a review. Just saying. But, once again, I will bribe you to review. Personal reply and a spoiler will go to anyone who reviews, no matter how short or how long. **

**And now, an author's note. **

**1****st****: As I mentioned earlier, lukeiamursister and jemsrwe are the awesomest people on the planet and you have them to thank for this chapter. Seriously.**

**2****nd****: In regards to a question I received, Kale is a very special child. He is a half-Shadowhunter, half-werewolf baby. He can do magical things. Not really, but he is very advanced for his age. Thus, he learned to walk and talk at eight months, he is stronger than an average five year old, can understand more, et cetera, et cetera. **

**3****rd****: In regards to another question I received, Beck looks like Steven R. McQueen. Also known as Jeremy from **_**The Vampire Diaries.**_

**Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please Subscribe/Review. Favoriting would also be really nice. Just saying.**

**My apologies for not updating yesterday. I just was not feeling it. **

**Love and Peace, **

**SpeakNow1118**


	5. Chapter 5

**I assume that you all know this, but I do not own the Mortal Instruments. *sob* I do own Kale and Beck though, so be very jealous that Beck loves me because I created him. Hehehe…**

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After Beck had followed Clary out of the room, Jace retreated into his thoughts. Clary looked different, but she was still very much the same. Her flat-ironed hair, so different from the curls to which he was accustomed, was much longer than when he had last seen her. It looked stunning. He thought about her body (shown off exceedingly well by the dress she was wearing) and how it was entirely lean muscle now, toned to perfection, with porcelain skin. She looked stunning. Her body had never been overly curvy, not like some of the women Jace had dated, but that dazzling dress gave hints of the body beneath. He wanted her in his arms so badly that it caused a physical pain. It had been years since he had seen her, and all he wanted was to feel her.

Jace looked sadly at Kale, who was quietly playing with a toy truck at the table.

"I bet you don't remember me, do ya, Kid?" Jace asked Kale.

Kale cocked his head and furrowed his brow in deep concentration.

"Should I?" Kale asked.

Jace raised his eyebrows, this kid was intelligent.

"I was there when you were born. I knew your mommy and daddy. I used to know your sister."

"Then why did you leave?" The honesty of the five year old astounded Jace, but Kale continued before Jace could answer.

"Clary tells me about my mom and dad. Jocelyn and Luke," Kale's voice had taken a wistful appearance, "Sissy said that they were killed by a bad, bad demon when I was a baby." He plopped down on the floor and started to play with another toy that he had carried in with him.

Jace sat down next to him and asked if he could see the truck. When Kale handed the small toy to him, Jace examined it and carelessly tossed the toy back to Kale. It seemed familiar to him, but he knew not from where. Kale cradled it in his small hands when he caught it.

"Yes," Jace said after a moment, "They were killed by a bad, bad demon. But your mom and dad were good people. Luke was there for me during a bad time. Jocelyn didn't always like me, but she was civil at least." Jace's voice trailed off, and he got the sense that Kale was too absorbed in his toys to care. "They died protecting you." Jace stated simply. At this, Kale's head snapped up.

"What?" He asked with clouded eyes.

"Nothing, nothing." Jace answered quickly. He had said too much, and Kale looked like he was about to cry. Jace stuttered and stumbled over his words. "Uh…" He looked around wildly; he wanted Clary to accept him back into her life, and if she found out that he had made her brother cry, she would not be happy. In fact, she would be downright pissed at him.

"Are you hungry?" He asked Kale hopefully, "That food smells really yummy, doesn't it?"

Kale's face immediately brightened as he nodded. Jace lifted him up into a chair and placed a plate in front of him, scooping generous amounts of food onto it.

"Eat up, Kid." Jace stated flatly as she moved to the sink to get a cloth to wipe up the mess Clary had made when she saw him. Above him, in what he thought was Clary's old bedroom before she had moved in with him, he could hear faint yelling. He wished he could hear what they were saying as he went to the closet to get a broom and dust pan to sweep up the broken shards of glass.

_That plate looks like my life right now, _he thought miserably. He had not expected Clary to pick up and move on so fast. He'd said he'd be back, hadn't he? Now he was angry. Clary clearly did not love him as much as he loved her if she couldn't wait for him.

_You were gone for five years. _The small voice in the back of his head whispered the undeniable fact to him. _Five years. _He thought again, miserable. _You can't blame her for moving on after five years. Five months, maybe, would have been acceptable, but five years? _Jace snorted softly to himself ruefully.

At the table, Kale continued eating, softly making the noises of a truck engine as he played, completely unaware of the turmoil going on around him.

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Clary waited in their bedroom for Beck to arrive. She stood with her back to the door, arms crossed, and a deep frown on her face. She contemplated kicking Jace out entirely, but Beck probably would not let her. And since they ran the Institute together now, they had to come to some sort of agreement about how to handle things like this. She heard the door open and close quietly behind her. She knew Beck was standing right behind her, but she could not turn around just yet. Then she heard him speak.

"Clary," He spoke her name only once, but it was full of meaning.

"He can't stay here, Beck." Her voice was quiet, but it was firm.

"We don't have a choice, Sweetheart. Clave law states that any Nephilim that needs shelter may-"

"I don't care about Clave law, Beck!" She whirled as she spoke, her voice raising a few notches, "I just want him gone."

"I understand that, Baby, but we can't just kick him out."

"You're only defending him because he was your friend. You don't care about me right now; all you care about is your friend from Idris." Her voice was cold enough to freeze lava, "And I hate to break it to you, Babe, but you will never get to go back to the way things were in Idris."

Beck's head tilted back and he looked at the ceiling, struggling not to let emotion show. Clary knew that it was a low blow, and she would feel terrible about it later, but right now, she wanted to lash out. She wanted to make someone or something hurt as bad as she did, and Beck knew that that. So he let it slide off of his skin.

"You don't mean that. You only said it because you know that I'm right and it hurts like hell." His voice was subdued as he looked her straight in the eyes. This just angered her more.

"Get out." Her tone was livid, but her face showed nothing. Only her emerald eyes snapped and blazed at him. "I can't stand to even look at you right now."

Beck sighed and cast his eyes down sadly, but he left.

Clary stood still for a few moments, but then she moved quickly. She snatched a pillow off of the bed and stumbled into the closet. After the door was closed behind her, she buried her head in the soft down pillow and screamed. She started sobbing, sinking to the floor in abject weariness. She cried hard, letting everything out. A few minutes later, she was spent, but she had to get out. Clary stood and ripped off her jacket and dress, tearing through her dresser until she found the tiniest shorts she owned. She tugged them on, strode out of the closet in only her shorts and bra and found the tank top that she had discarded that morning on floor. She raked her hair into a ponytail and looked at herself in the mirror; she looked hot. She searched for the shoes she kept exclusively for running and yanked them on over her socks. Finding her iPod on the table, she walked downstairs and out the door. Clary made sure to make enough noise to alert the boys in the kitchen that she was out there. Sure enough, Beck came running into the living room, where she made a show of bending over and grabbing a light jacket off of the floor. Clary liked the look he gave her as she straightened up.

"I'm going for a run." She said coolly.

"Where?" Beck asked, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

"I don't know yet. Don't wait up." Swinging her hips, she strode out the door, knowing that Beck was watching her so called "sexy walk" with regret. She liked that power. She turned her iPod onto a hard rock song and blasted it.

Over the roar of her music, she could barely hear Beck call after her, "At least take your weapons!"

She paused and looked over her shoulder, saying, "No." She was acting like a spoiled child, but she didn't care. She just wanted out.

Once outside, she took off, almost flying over the ground. In the past seven years, she had grown faster, stronger, and more enduring. Becoming a Shadowhunter was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She sprinted for miles, pushing herself harder and harder. Before too long, she had arrived at Central Park. She took off into the wooded areas, leaping over fallen trees and rocks. A healthy sweat broke out over body and her breath came harder and harder, but still she ran. When Clary looked at her watch, she realized she had been running for four hours. She had circled the park four times, and the sky was growing dark. She sighed and frowned as she stopped, knowing that she should return home soon. She turned to go back the way she came, but something made her stop dead in her tracks.

Standing before her was a black snake. Not so unusual, had it been the size of a normal snake. But this one was larger than she was – much larger.

"How many of you things are there?" She asked in disgust, reaching for her belt, but encountering nothing but soft skin and the soaked cotton shirt.

_Damn it. I should have listened to Beck._

She recalled something Luke had once told her, "_Sometimes your best bet is to book it out of there."_

It seemed like good advice, so she took it. Clary turned on her heel and fled. She was fast, but it was faster. It overtook her and leapt at her from behind, knocking her over into the dirt. She rolled, but so did it. Her hand scraped against something hard, a sturdy stick, about two feet long and three inches thick.

"_In times of battle, anything can be a weapon. Hands, feet, sticks, balls – anything." _Jace's voice was in her head now. She willed it gone, but she took the advice it carried. Her fingers wrapped around the stick and she struggled to her feet, feigning injury. The demon slithered towards her, but stopped about two feet away, looking at her. Then suddenly, it spoke.

"This battle is far bigger than you or I, Clarissa Morgenstern, far, far bigger. What once began with your parents is continued on with their descendants." It hissed at her and coiled itself, preparing to strike. As it lashed out towards her, moving with surprising speed and force, she thrust the stick forward, driving it into the snake's mouth and through its head. The branch continued, bursting through the top of its head, Clary's arm following. Her skin caught on its teeth, tearing a long wound in her arm.

She cried out, more in surprise in pain, but looking at it, she could see that it was a deep cut. Blood spilled from it, pattering onto the ground in heavy, fat drops. Clary cursed under her breath; she would have to have Magnus look at it to make sure it was not poisoned. She sighed, pulling off her shirt and wrapping it around the wound to staunch the blood flow. Thankfully, she was wearing a runner's bra, so she was at least mostly decent.

Clary gathered what she had dropped; her phone, keys, iPod and watch had fallen in the fight. She took off running again, this time towards the High Warlock of Brooklyn's apartment. She arrived in a few minutes, dizzy from blood loss and pain. She rapped sharply on the door, calling out, "Magnus, open up! I know you're in there." When Alec opened the door, she fell into his arms.

Alec supported her, lifting her easily into his arms. "What happened?" He asked in mild interest.

"Beck and I got into a fight and I went for a run and I got attacked in the park. I killed it and came here. I think it might be poisoned, Alec." Her words tumbled over one another; she was nearing unconsciousness.

"Magnus, come quick!" Alec called, more than a little worried now, "I'm going to call Beck." He told Clary, which she vehemently objected too.

"That's pointless. Magnus can heal me and I can go home and tell Beck that I fell and cut myself."

Alec shook his head, but he acquiesced. Magnus appeared, dressed in one of his usual outfits: tight, sparkly, rainbow-colored leather pants, a Victorian-era collared lace shirt and over the knee boots. His face was done up with multicolored glittery eye shadow. Magnus' eyebrow arched as she surveyed Alec holding Clary.

"Really, Clary, what have you done this time?" He spoke as though he was weary of seeing her, but in reality, he was very fond of her. They had grown close over the past few years.

Clary managed to unwrap her arm, which had turned a sickly greenish color, and showed it to the sparkling warlock.

"Oh dear, that doesn't look very good at all." Magnus' mouth twitched when he spoke, but he turned on his heel and motioned for Alec to follow him to living room, where Clary was gently deposited on the couch. Magnus stood over her and examined the afflicted arm before standing and pointing one finger at it. Blue sparks shot from its tip while Magnus examined the cuticles on his free hand. Alec struggled not to laugh at the scene playing out before him.

As soon as Magnus' finger stopped glowing, Clary shot up, gasping. Magnus snapped his fingers and a glass of water appeared at Clary's elbow.

"Drink that, it will help." Magnus said cheerfully.

Groaning, Clary reached for it and took a long pull. She choked and her eyes burned as she quickly realized that it was not water, but a glass of very strong vodka.

"Something wrong?" Magnus asked innocently.

"No, no, of course not." Clary scowled at him and took another smaller sip.

"Shall I fetch you another shirt?"' Magnus asked, already imagining her in something that, no doubt, she would never wear under normal circumstances.

"No thanks," she replied, "I'll just burn this one and tell Beck I took if off at the park." Suddenly, the shirt was on fire, blazing a multitude of different colors. Clary recoiled slightly and Magnus smiled sheepishly.

"I haven't burned anything in a while." He explained, "Oh! By the way, Clarissa, Alexander and I are throwing a party tonight. Bring that handsome boyfriend of yours along with you." Magnus smirked at her and she rolled her eyes. Alec looked horrified at the thought of a party, but he clearly had no say in the matter.

Clary nodded, affirming that Beck and she would be there, but then a devious thought crossed her mind. She added, "Mind if I bring another guest along? We have a guest staying with us."

Magnus winked and replied, "The more the merrier."

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When Clary arrived back at the Institute, she was once again drenched in sweat. She took the door knob in her hand, took a deep breath, and casually strode in. Beck was there waiting. He angrily jumped up when she walked in and began yelling at her.

"Where have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is, how long you've been gone? Do you know how worried I've been?" He was ranting now, waving his arms around in the air.

Clary just looked at him, making him even angrier. His mouth was one thin, hard line, and his arms lowered to his sides. _He actually looks scary,_ Clary noted to herself. She raised one eyebrow and walked away, going upstairs to her bedroom. Once there, she started pulling off her clothes. She was only mildly surprised Beck walked in, closing the door behind him, but she did not show it.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from me? Jeez, what do I need to do, get a restraining order?" She turned to face him, making an angry face at him. Truthfully, she was mostly joking now; she had cooled off, and it was very hard for her to stay mad at Beck.

He just looked at her, not letting her revealed body distract him. Later on, he would marvel at that moment of self-control. Normally, even the thought of her body drove him mad.

He tried to maintain a stony face, but Clary could easily see through the heroics to the turbulence underneath.

"I was scared, Clary. Literally, I was afraid. I didn't know where you were. I tried calling you, but your phone was off. You didn't have any weapons, you could have been hurt!" His eyes were burning holes in her.

Clary stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. The shakiness was nearly gone from her body, and any residual tremors in her body could be explained as fatigue from her run.

"I'm sorry. I needed to clear my head." As she held him, he relented and his arms encircled her. His lips caressed the top of her head. They stood like that for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of one another's arms. When Clary pulled away slightly, Beck pulled her back to him and kissed her so passionately she almost collapsed. He when stopped to breathe, she whispered to him, "I'm glad you've forgiven me. But what I say next will make you hate me." Beck's head cocked to the side anxiously as Clary continued, "Magnus is having a party. I said we would go. And we're bringing Jace along too."

Beck groaned, but then his face grew puzzled. "Wait, what were you doing at Magnus's," he asked curiously.

Clary internally kicked herself, but smoothly lied, "I just went to clear my head after my run."

Beck nodded. "So what about Jace?" he asked cautiously, not wanting another blowout fight.

Clary took a deep breath and stepped back from Beck. "We'll make it work, I guess."

"Believe me," he said slowly, "I'm not happy about sharing a house with my girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend, but he's my best friend."

Clary looked up as she spoke and released the air she was holding. "Party starts in a few hours." She said gruffly, "We need to find a babysitter for Kale."

"What about Simon?"

"Oh no, you know what happened last time. Kale couldn't sleep for a week!" Clary's face was shocked, but Beck just laughed. Clary sighed and added, "I wish Robert and Mayrse were still around."

Beck grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her toward him, kissing her softly on the top of the head. "I do too, Sweetheart." Then he left her to get dressed.

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Clary paused before the doorway, and then strode boldly in. Beck was nowhere to be seen, but Jace was sitting at the piano, softly playing the song that he had been playing all those years ago when he had brought her to the Institute after she killed the Ravener demon. He looked up, startled, and the beautiful music stopped on a discordant note. She looked beautiful in a pair of faded and jeans and a loose gray shirt.

She looked as mad as a wet cat, though.

"You want to stay here?" Fine. But you're going to work for it."

Jace just nodded, still shocked.

"Your first order of business is cleaning up the yard. Mayrse wanted you to do it five _years_ ago, but since you rather abruptly disappeared," Clary was studiously studying her nails now, "It remains unfinished."

Jace, now recovered, leaned arrogantly against the piano and asked, "Speaking of Mayrse, where is she? I haven't seen anyone except you, Beck and your brother."

Clary shook her head in disbelief. "You really didn't check any of your texts or calls or emails, or any other form of communication, did you? _All _of us tried to contact you, and fine, you ignored me, I understand that, but Isabelle? Alec? What about them? Alec was your _brother! _He was your _parabatai! _How could you just turn your back on them?" Clary was angry now.

"I ignored all of the calls." Jace looked down, picking at some imaginary dust on his jeans. "If I got a text, I just deleted it without reading it. I didn't want anyone to know where I was."

"Clearly." Clary's tone was acidic as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Jace looked up, his face contorted. "Where are they, Clarissa?"

Clary snorted and shook her head.

"Tell me where they are, Clary." Jace was striding toward her when all of a sudden Beck materialized and stood between Jace and Clary.

"Are you threatening her?" Beck's voice was a deadly sort of calm. It was the tone of voice he used right before heads rolled from their respective bodies.

Jace had taken another step closer and was so close that his face was only a fraction of an inch away from Beck's.

"Get out of my way."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I think you heard me perfectly."

"Alec moved in with Magnus, and Robert and Mayrse were granted entrance back into Idris after Isabelle got married."

Jace's face changed from anger to disbelief. "Izzy got married?"

"Yes, which you would know if you would ever bother to pick up your damn phone." Clary stepped around Beck to where the boy's chests were almost touching and separated them. _There is _way _too much testosterone in this room, _she thought to herself.

"Yes. Robert and Mayrse arranged her marriage to a respectable Shadowhunter. He was very rich, very handsome. I suspect that's why Isabelle said yes. They live in Chicago now." That being said, Clary turned and sauntered out the door. She called over her shoulder, "The party starts at nine. You'd best get ready."

"Party?" Jace called to her.

"Yes, we're going to Magnus's house." Clary threw a brilliant, yet sarcastic, smile at Jace. "You can see your brother after five and half years. I'm sure that he'll be thrilled."

"Clary, no. I won't see him until I'm ready."

"You'll do as she tells you." Beck said, too soft for Clary to hear, although Jace heard him perfectly and threw an annoyed glance at Beck.

"Then you had better be ready by nine. Consider this part of your working it off." With that, Clary flipped her hair over her shoulder and left the room.

"Let me make this absolutely clear, Jonathan," Beck started before Jace cut him off.

"My name is Jace now." He stated.

"Whatever. Allow me to lay down some ground rules for you. One, you will not touch Clary. Two, you will not antagonize her. Three, you will respect her and do whatever she tells you to do. We were best friends, once upon a time, and I see no reason we can't return to that friendship. Unless, of course, you screw it up. Clary and I are together now. She loved you once upon a time, but any notions of rekindling your romance," Beck inserted a sinister chuckle here, "Can die right now. Clary and I are engaged. Should you try to come between that," Beck paused for dramatic effect and leaned in close to Jace's face, almost as if Beck was going to kiss him and said, "I will kill you."

Beck took three steps back and looked at Jace, who actually seemed a little intimidated. Beck was wider in the shoulders than Jace and at six foot three, he was slightly taller. Where Jace was lean muscle and leonine, Beck was solid muscle and bear-like.

Within a second, Beck's whole countenance had changed.

"Jace, you were my very best friend for ten years. I loved you like a brother. I want that back. I hope we can still be that close." With that, he turned and walked from the room.

"Clary was serious about the party, you know." He tossed back casually.

Beck left Jace trying to battle a barrage of emotions.

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Beck's mouth literally dropped open when Clary walked in the room. She wore a form-fitting red dress that abruptly stopped about four inches above the knee. The sweetheart neckline plunged to show an attractive amount of skin, but not enough to actually show anything. It was belted at the waist with a thick navy blue belt. Under it, she wore black fishnet tights with a pair of combat boots. Her makeup was understated, but it brought out her natural beauty. Jace noted with some amusement that she was still carrying the battered old backpack she'd used the first time they went to one of Magnus's parties.

She stood back and observed the boy's respective appearances. Beck wore a dark gray thermal over black jeans with his beat up combat boots. A leather jacket completed his "tough guy" look. Clary reached up to kiss him as she moved closer.

Jace just looked mundane. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt with his fighting boots on. Around his waist was his weapons belt.

"You look great, Babe. Are you ready?" Clary asked.

Beck nodded and held the door open for her.

They got to Magnus's apartment just a little bit later. When they walked in, everyone stared at the three Nephilim. A few appreciative catcalls went up when a few of the vampires saw Clary, but they were silenced with one look from Beck.

Even through the pounding music, Clary could hear a gasp. She saw Alec standing in the doorway, his mouth agape. He moved toward them, looking at Jace like he was looking at a ghost. Clary spared a look towards Jace, only to see Jace's head disappear; or rather, that's what it looked like. In reality, Alec's fist had connected with Jace's jaw, sending him sprawling.

Jace glared up at them as he spat blood out of his mouth and cradled his jaw. Clary looked down with interest. "That's three times today." She remarked disinterestedly. "Nice hit, Alec."

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**4,423 words is the longest chapter I have ever written. So what do you think of this chapter? Please, please, please leave a review because I think this is the hardest chapter I have ever had to write, and I would like to know how I did. You give me a tip/advice/comment and I will give you a spoiler for the next chapter I write. The reviews I really want are on the following: Kale's overall character, the action scenes, Jace's return and how Clary and Beck handled it and how good of a writer you think I am. Thanks in advance!**

**Also, a clarification: No matter what chapter you review, I will give you a spoiler for the chapter I am currently writing. **

**Another clarification: I don't know if you got two Chapter Alerts for chapter 4, but if you did, it's because I forgot to run spell check and edit the chapter, and I didn't want anyone to read any bad grammar. :O**

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


	6. Chapter 6

Jace glared up at the three who were looking down at him. He jumped to his feet and stared at Alec, ready to return the favor. "Alec, what the-"

"I should hit you again!" Alec cried, "You put all of us through hell, Jace. Mom and Izzy cried for days. Clary was a wreck;" (at this point, Jace threw an interested glance at Clary, who made a face back) "I was _brotherless. _You're lucky I don't do more than hit you!" Alec, who was normally so reserved, was screaming and waving his arms. Suddenly, Magnus appeared at their side, calmly pointing out that they were not alone.

"Perhaps we should move this conversation to a more appropriate venue, Alexander." Magnus lightly touched Alec's elbow and drew him towards an unoccupied room. He snapped his fingers and the music suddenly blared from the speakers once more. "Carry on, faithful partygoers!" He called cheerfully, and sensing that there was nothing more to be entertained by with respect to the Shadowhunters, the guests continued dancing, drinking and partying. Clary and Beck followed Alec and Magnus, and Jace followed after shortly, still wiping his mouth.

A few short minutes later, Alec and Jace were pounding each other into the floor. Both were bloody and bruised, but neither would give up. Clary winced a little as she watched Alec drive his body into Jace's, forcing Jace onto the ground, where they wrestled, punching and kicking, each trying to gain the upper hand.

"Should we stop them?" Magnus asked nervously.

"Let them get it out of their systems," Beck said, "Otherwise we'll be dealing with this all weekend."

Clary rolled her eyes and added, "Let Alec pound him; he deserves worse." Beck chuckled at this statement and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing Clary close and pecking a kiss on the top of her head.

After a few more minutes, the boys stood up, unable to continue fighting.

"All done?" Clary asked neutrally.

Alec, from behind swollen eyes and lips, nodded. Magnus reached over and snapped his long fingers, the blue sparks that shot from them healed Alec, repairing torn skin and reducing the swelling. He stepped back from Alec, giving his boyfriend a little pat on the butt. "All better." Magnus smiled at him, Alec rolled his eyes, but he smiled back.

"What about me?" Jace asked, holding up his hands as if to say, "me too!"

Magnus just looked at him, saying, "I'm not pleased with you right now. Alec was right to hit you."

Jace scoffed in irritation. "Fine. I'll just heal myself then." His upper lip curled in anger as he reached for his stele. "I'm starting to think that coming back was a mistake."

"Yeah, maybe it was." Alec and Clary snarled at the same time, and Jace looked taken aback.

"I didn't actually mean that-"

"Whatever, Jace." Clary sighed deeply and turned to Alec, "Since I have you here, Alec, I need to talk to you," She took no notice of Jace, who was glowering as he traced an _iratze_ on his arm and neck. Beck was observing the scene quietly, trying not to laugh. "There have been more of those demon attacks, and I'm starting to get worried. They're similar in pattern to the ones we're looking for, but they're not exact." Clary was studiously ignoring everyone but Alec, "It's like individual demons have been told how to kill someone, but each of them have put their own little stamp of individuality on it at the same time." Clary rubbed her temple; she still was not feeling one hundred percent after her encounter in the park earlier that afternoon. "It's really confusing."

Alec looked interested, but puzzled. "I'll come over tomorrow and we can investigate further." He told Clary, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You don't look so good, Clary." He looked concerned now.

She shook it off, "I'm fine." She pronounced.

Beck's arm tightened around her as he confirmed what Alec was saying.

"I'm fine, really!" She said once more, laughing a little as she said it.

"Clary, may I see you a moment?" Magnus asked quietly. Clary nodded and followed him out the door, down the steps, across the hall and into the library, where he turned and leaned against the wall.

"How's your arm?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"A little sore," Clary admitted reluctantly, "but overall, it's fine."

Magnus looked at her with eyes as old and wise as the books that surrounded them. "Are you sure?" He asked softly.

"Yes. I'm fine, really. Thank you, Magnus."

He was not sure if he quite believed her.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Walking home from the party proved more exciting than the entire night had been, regardless of the fight between Jace and Alec.

Beck's arm was in its usual spot around Clary's shoulders and Jace sullenly trailed behind them. Clary and Beck were talking in low voices; even with super-hearing, Jace could not understand them. Jealousy flared more and more in his chest with each passing step; every inch he moved made him want to kill Beck and take Clary in his arms and never let her go with an intensity that almost scared him.

Just then, Clary's head jerked, and she whispered, "Did you see that?"

Neither Beck nor Jace had seen anything, but Clary was determined, leaving the warm shelter of Beck's arms and walking towards whatever she had seen.

"The shadows moved."

"Shadows move all the time, Babe. Come on, it's late. Let's go home." Beck tugged at her arm, trying to pull her back on the path, but she was convinced, and there was no changing her mind.

"Fine, stay here then. But I know I saw something, and I'm going to go check it out." She pulled her arm free and strode confidently across the grass.

Beck shook his head and resigned to follow her.

"You coming?" He called back at Jace, who followed, still sulking. He stopped sulking, however, when he heard Clary (who was around the corner of the building and therefore out of sight) exclaim. Beck took off running and rounded the corner just in time to see Clary crawling on top of a dumpster to pull down a fire escape staircase. She gracefully climbed up, five inch heels and dress, notwithstanding. Beck followed her up to the roof and pulled himself up and onto the roof just as a giant black snake launched itself at Clary, who ducked out of the way.

"What is this?" She cried, "How many of you are there?" She pulled a blade from her backpack and skillfully threw it at the demon just as Beck did the same. Jace, by this time, had joined them, and he leapt over Beck to land behind the snake, where he easily decapitated the ugly beast. But not before it had begun to say these words:

_"This battle is far bigger than you or I, Clarissa Morgenstern, far, far bigger. What once began-"_

Jace's knife spared them the rest of the speech, but Clary recoiled. She quickly composed herself, and then clutched at her suddenly throbbing arm. She looked down, but everything looked normal. The soft pink scar was nearly gone, but Beck, who had heard her gasp of pain, looked over and immediately zeroed in on the wound.

"Clary, what happened?" His voice was quiet, but she sensed the turmoil in his voice as he took her arm and examined it.

"Nothing, I tripped when I was running and when I fell, I sliced it open on a stick." She spoke quickly, not wanting him to worry, "I'm clumsy, remember?" She smiled at him, but Beck remained unconvinced.

"If you say so."

"I do." She replied smartly, reaching up for a kiss.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

It was late. Or maybe it was early. Either way, Jace was buzzed. He staggered around the Institute, tripping and stumbling and making a general fool of himself. Somehow, he ended up outside Clary and Beck's room. He managed to open the door quietly and stood in the doorway, looking at the love of his life and his best friend lie together in bed. It was sickening. As he watched, Clary turned toward Beck, stirring softly in her sleep. Her arm reached across Beck's chest and she settled against him, curving her body against every line of his. Her right leg hooked over his and her head rested gently against his bare chest. Jace took another swig from the dark brown bottle he carried. _Almost empty, _he thought, _how sad. _His memories inundated him; his thoughts were carried away as he thought about his early life.

_Jace was running through an open field behind his house. His father was away on one of his trips, he had finished his studies, and the simpleton housekeeper was bent on making him do chores, so he had run out the door. Feeling the wind and sun on his face was the most beautiful sensation a four year old could have. All of a sudden, he stopped dead. There was another person at the other end of the field, quickly making his way toward Jace. Jace charged toward him angrily, how dare he trespass on Michael Wayland's land?_

_The boy stopped short only a yard away from Jace, but Jace did not stop. He barreled into the dark-haired boy, tackling him to the ground. He was a little bigger, but Jace knew that he was a good fighter. The two boys rolled over and over each other, trying to gain the upper hand. Finally, the boy shucked Jace off of him, laughing. _

"_My name is Beck." He said, standing up and brushing himself off. "What's your?"_

"_I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." Jace said primly._

"_Well, I'm not a stranger anymore." Beck replied in a tone of voice that seemed to ask why Jace was being so thick. "I told you, my name is Beck. I live in that house over the hill. I'm five and a quarter." _

_Jace just looked at him and Beck grew irritated with the boy's insolence. _

"_Are you gonna tell me your name or not?" He fairly shouted, and Jace finally answered._

"_My name is Jonathan. I live right there," Jace said, pointing at his house, "I'm four and a half."_

_Beck nodded, pleased that Jace had finally answered him._

"_Want to be friends?" Beck asked._

"_I don't know." Jace shrugged, "I've never had one before. Except my father. He's my friend!"_

"_Fathers don't count, because they're old." Beck said, rolling his eyes. "You need a friend that's your age, like me!"_

_Jace nodded amicably. _

"_What do friends do?" Jace asked innocently._

"_I don't know." Beck scratched his head, puzzled. "All kind of stuff, I guess."_

"_Like training?" Jace asked hopefully._

"_No, dummy, like playing."_

"_I've never really played before. My father spends most of his time training me."_

"_Well, that's why you need a friend. So you don't have to train all the time and stuff."_

"_Oh. Let's be friends!" Jace said gleefully._

Jace rubbed his nose and looked at Beck again. His arms wrapped around Clary in his sleep. Low in his throat, Jace snarled. Clary fit against Beck perfectly, and the cool night arm made her snuggle deep into his chest. A wild fit of jealousy overcame Jace, and he almost pitched forward to rip Clary away from Beck.

But then he thought better of himself and flashed back to another memory.

_Jace was seven now and Beck was eight. Every time Michael went on one of his frequent trips, Jace and Beck would go to the field or to Beck's house or to one of their special hiding places and spend their time together. On this particular day, Jace and Beck were hunting for rabbits and other small creatures that they could capture. Jace spotted a flash of white a few feet ahead as Beck flushed out the foliage. _

"_There!" Jace screamed and took off, Beck following close behind. _

_It took no time at all for Jace to catch up to the startled creature and take it captive. He fell to his knees and cradled the rabbit close to his chest. Beck caught up soon (Jace had always been the quicker of the two), and looked over his friend's shoulder curiously._

"_Are you going to kill it?" He asked._

"_I don't know." Jace replied uncertainly. "It didn't do anything to me. Why should it die?"_

_Beck sighed. "Give it here, Jonathan," He demanded impatiently._

_Jace looked at him sadly, but handed the older boy the rabbit. As soon as Beck took it in his hands though, something in the boy's countenance changed. He shook it off and gripped the rabbit's neck._

"_No!" Jace cried out, "Don't kill it. Let him go." He reached for the rabbit and Beck released it._

"_Yeah, I guess you're right." Beck said. "We shouldn't kill it." _

_Jace smiled, obviously relieved as he softly petted the rabbit's snow white fur._

"_Hey, I know! Maybe my mother will let me keep it. Then we could watch it grow and have babies and stuff." Beck was obviously pleased by the idea of a pet rabbit, and Jace agreed, the joy of saving a life still evident on his face. _

"_Yeah, that sounds good. You're so smart, Beck."_

"_I know I am. That's why I'm the oldest." _

_They had both laughed at that comment, but in truth, Beck had never wanted to kill the rabbit. He had wanted to show off his bravado to Jace. That event had solidified their relationship as best friends._

Another flash of a memory flashed in front of Jace's eyes, this one not nearly so happy.

_Jace was ten years old. He had just received the news that his father was dead. He was in shock, in disbelief, in mourning. He could not cry; he knew that was weakness. His father never allowed him to cry. What was he going to do? Where was he going to go? How could his father be dead? _

_He ran to the only place that could give him comfort – Beck's house. Joanna opened the door and had immediately leaned down and swept Jace into a hug. _

"_Oh, Jonathan, I am so sorry."_

_Jace tore loose from her arms and ran inside, looking for Beck, the only person who could comfort him. _

"_Beck! Beck, where are you?" He called out, willing himself not to cry as he searched for his friend. Beck suddenly appeared, looking shocked. _

"_Jonathan, what's wrong?" _

"_My father. He's dead." As soon as Jace saw Beck, his world stopped spinning. He felt nothing now, he was just dead inside. _

_The next day, Michael Wayland was cremated in accordance to Shadowhunter tradition. Beck sat by Jace, trying to comfort his best friend. Jace had spent the night with the Cartwright's, not eating, not sleeping, not speaking. He had moved around, but his actions were dictated by William and Joanna. Beck was lost; he did not know what to do to aid his friend. After the funeral, one of the members of the Consul had approached Jace where he stood with Beck, Joanna, and William._

"_Jonathan Wayland, by request of the High Inquisitor and the order of the Clave, you are to be sent to the New York City Institute, run by Robert and Mayrse Lightwood, and to continue your Nephilim training under Hodge Starkweather. You will leave, by Portal, in a week. You have until then to get your affairs in order." After having said this, the man had promptly turned on his heel and left the four standing there._

_Joanna cried to William, "Can't you do something?" _

_He tried his hardest, but to no avail. Jace's sentence was handed down and carried out. On the last day before his departure, Beck had fiercely hugged him. _

"_Don't forget about me, Jonathan. Don't you dare forget. Write me letters all the time, and I'll come visit you! You can come back to Idris every so often and visit me too." _

"_I love you, Beck." Jace had said very simply. "You're like the brother I wish I had."_

"_I feel the same way, Jonathan."_

_Jace nodded, tears streaming from his eyes, and they embraced for a long time. When the time had come for Jace to leave, Beck stood by him until the last second. The last thing Jace saw before he arrived in New York had been Beck's face. At night he had cried silently for weeks; he hated New York and what it represented. He waited for letters, but only one ever came. It was a happy letter, Beck spoke of his new home in Idris and what he was doing in his life, but Jace's misery was heightened by the letter. Jace wrote to Beck thousands of times, but only once had he received a reply._

"_To love is to destroy." What his father had told him so many times before was ringing through his head; his brotherly love for Beck had destroyed their friendship, and now he was paying the price for it. _

Jace was very drunk now. He stumbled back from the room and closed the door. He fell back against the wall behind him and buried his head in his arms, quietly sobbing uncontrollably. Hours passed from that spot; it was eight-thirty A.M. before Jace moved. He got up slowly, feeling nauseated. He knew he needed to eat something, so he staggered to the kitchen and noisily rooted through the fridge for anything he could consume.

"What are you doing?" He heard a small voice behind him. It was Kale, wearing a white shirt that was engulfing him, sleepily rubbing his eyes and clutching at a stuffed bear. His sandy hair was tousled and falling in his eyes.

"Getting some breakfast. You want something to eat, Kid?"

Kale nodded and trudged forward, perching atop a chair at the table and cradling his face in his arms.

Jace was unsure what to do; he had never cooked breakfast for anyone else before.

"Uh…" He trailed off, "What do you normally eat for breakfast?" He asked hesitantly.

"Cereal," Kale muttered through a yawn. Jace was relieved. At least he could make cereal.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Clary woke up to the magnificent feeling of Beck's lips on her temple.

"Mmm… That feels so good."

"Good morning, beautiful."

She turned to face him and smiled.

"What time is it?" She asked, clearing her hair from her face. Beck glanced at the clock and moved his lips back to her cheek.

"Nine-thirty."

Clary bolted upright, "Nine-thirty? In the morning? What about Kale?"

She leapt from the bed and threw on a pair of Beck's shorts from where they were discarded the night before. He followed suit, mumbling, "I was going to wear those, Clary." She opened the door and ran from the room into the kitchen, where Beck and Kale were sitting at the kitchen table eating bowls of cereal.

"Hi, Sissy! Jace made me breakfast, see?" Kale proclaimed happily.

Clary tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded. "Yes, I see that. How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know." Kale went back to his cereal.

"Nice outfit, Clare." Jace muttered to Clary, and her eyebrows rose at him. He put his hands up and surrendered, "I was up early, and the kid here heard me making some noise, so he got up and I gave him cereal. Is that a crime?"

Clary rolled her eyes, grabbed two bowls and handed one to Beck. He reached up and grabbed the other cereal box, poured some in Clary's bowl and retrieved the orange juice from the refrigerator while Clary got four glasses out from the cupboard. Suddenly, Kale looked up from his food.

"Clary, is it my fault that Mommy and Daddy are dead?"

The glass dropped from Clary's hand and shattered against the floor.

"W- Wh- What?" Clary's face had gone white and her voice shook as she answered.

Beck kneeled next to Kale and gently brushed the little boy's hair back from his face. "Why would you ask that, Buddy?"

"Well, Jace and I were talking last night," Clary's eyes zeroed in on Jace, who was staring at Kale in wonder while Kale continued, "and he said that they died protecting me." His face turned toward Clary and she could see that his eyes were misty. "It is my fault?"

Clary looked at him helplessly as Kale ran from the room. Then, helplessness turned to anger as she looked at Jace.

"Did you tell him that? Why would you say that to him? What is wrong with you?" Clary was fairly shouting at the end, and when he tried to protest, she cut him off with a disgusted wave of her hand and she ran after her brother.

"I should just pound you now, and save Clary the trouble! Though at this point, I'm sure she wants another swing." Beck exploded at Jace from across the table.

Jace looked up helplessly. "I didn't mean it like that; I was praising them!" He said defensively, standing up from the table.

"You don't say something like that to a five year old, you idiot!" Beck countered. He visible shook himself as he tried to calm himself down. "You need to leave for a while. Go somewhere, anywhere, but do _not_ show your face around here for a few hours. At least. Get out." Beck's voice was deadly calm at the end of his tirade. Jace looked at him silently and left the room.

Beck put his hands to his face. He still loved his friend, but he had to wonder if Jace came back for Beck, or if he came back for Clary.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Clary knocked on Kale's door and slowly opened it. Kale was lying on his bed, still sniffling a little. Clary moved towards him and sat down on the edge of the small mattress.

"Kale, look at me."

He did, and she smiled at him.

"It's not your fault, Buddy. What did I tell you about them?"

"That they died when a bad, bad demon came after them."

"That's right. Now, how is that your fault?"

"I don't know." He replied, still crying a little, "Maybe I shouldn't have been born."

Clary gasped, "Don't ever say that, Kale. You were Mom and Dad's miracle! They loved you, and they wanted you to be born. They're in heaven right now, looking down on you. Do you know what they're saying right now?"

Kale shook his head miserably.

"They're saying, 'Look at how big Kale's getting! He is such a good boy. He and Clary are doing so well without us. We love them both so much!'"

"Really?" Kale asked uncertainly.

"Absolutely." She replied, and she gently pinched his cheek. "Don't ever think for a minute that it's your fault that they died, okay?"

Kale smiled a little and said okay.

Clary got up and left him, walking out of the room and nearly toppling into Beck.

"How is he?" Beck asked anxiously. Clary motioned for him to be quiet and to follow her. She led him to their bedroom, where she leaned against his chest. His hands rubbed her back and stroked her hair comfortingly as she cried.

"Crisis averted, but barely." She said a few minutes later. "I got him calmed down and everything, but I don't know how long it'll last."

"I sent Jace away for a few hours."

"Good." Her voice was icy.

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**And there is chapter six for all of my faithful readers, whom I love very much. Please, please, please leave a review on this chapter; I'm asking for these answers: How is my overall writing so far? How is Clary handling Jace? How is Beck handling Jace? What would you like to see more of? What would you like to see less of? What do you think of Jace and Beck's back-story? Would you like more flashbacks? Spoiler for anyone who reviews.  
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**This chapter was shorter than normal, I know. This is more of a chapter that will be more of a prep for some of the upcoming chapters. Hope you liked it! Update will possibly be Wednesday, more likely Thursday or Friday. I take my SATs on Saturday though, so don't expect an update then. **

**Peace and Love  
>SpeakNow1118<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**I know. I really suck. I promised this chapter on Saturday, and it is now Thursday. I suck. **

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When Jace slunk back into the Institute after nightfall, he smelled of whiskey. He found Clary in the kitchen, making dinner and tentatively said her name. As soon as she heard his voice, she froze. With her back still turned toward him, she started talking.

"Jace, we need to talk."

Jace silently nodded and sat down. Clary reached for the coffee pot and poured two cups.

"Still hate sugar?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Cream?"

"Yes."

She poured a small amount of cream into one of the cups and handed the other one to him. She sat across from him, sipping her black coffee contemplatively, struggling to come up with the words that so desperately needed said.

Jace cleared his throat and began, "Clary, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

She put her hand up and stopped him. "I know you didn't mean it that way, but Kale is special. He doesn't think like you and I do. He isn't the average five year old. He is literally one-of-a-kind."

She took another sip as Jace looked at her.

"Tell me," he said gently, "I deserve to know."

"You probably remember that Kale started speaking _very_ early. He just-" she cut off, not knowing what to say. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Kale is half Nephilim, half werewolf. He displays above average intelligence and strength – even for the Nephilim or lycanthrope races. He doesn't think about things like you or I do," she repeated, "And I don't know why. Beck thinks it's because he has the best of both worlds, so to speak. He gets the physical and mental capacities of a werewolf without the painful changes. He gets the physical and mental capacities of a Shadowhunter without the Runes."

She buried her face in her hands here, trying not to cry. Jace leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You're doing the best you can, Clare." His thumb traced circles on her shoulder, and she murmured his name.

"Jace, what are you doing?" She asked, knowing what he wanted but unwilling to give it.

"Sshh." He murmured. "Don't you want to know what I was doing all these years?" He asked quietly.

Clary sat back out of his reached and asked "What?"

"I was traveling. Europe, Asia, South America. All over. I stayed at different Institutes, killing demons, learning new fighting styles, and learning about demons. But I haven't touched another woman in all that time. I haven't even looked at another-"

"What did you learn about demons?" Clary cut him off and stood up, moving to the counter to get more coffee. When her back was turned, she closed her eyes and tried to compose herself.

Jace sat back hard in his chair, his face set. "I researched different demons and their folklore. Eastern European folklore especially interesting; places like Romania, Bulgaria, Russia. I found something that you in particular would want to know."

"Something like what, Jace?" Clary was growing irritated; she knew that Jace was playing a game with her, and she did not like it. He had not changed at all.

"Let me show you, Clarissa. I'll be right back." With a wicked smile he stood from the table and disappeared. He stayed true to his promise and was back in only a few moments. He carried something in his hand. He held out the packet to her, and after a moment, she reached out to take it and quickly flipped through it, doubling back to confirm what she saw. When there was no denying what it was, she gasped and recoiled.

It was pictures of bodies; some were photographs of crudely drawn figure on a cave wall, some were actual photographs, but every image had one thing in common. The bodies were all mangled in the same way that Jocelyn and Luke had been killed five long years ago.

Clary fell back against the counter and slid down to a sitting position. Jace came to join her, kneeling next to Clary. She sat in a stunned silence, then in one quick minute, she was on her feet running toward the bathroom. Clary fell against the edge of the toilet and knelt on the floor, retching, coughing and crying. Jace was beside her again, holding her hair away from her face and gently stroking her back. He murmured quiet shushing sounds, trying to comfort her.

When Clary was finished, she sat back and cried some more. When she had collected herself, she put her hands to her face and sniffled. "Where did you find those?" She asked throatily.

"I told you. I did some research when I was… not here."

"Why did you come back Jace?" The words fairly tore from her lips, and Jace's head fell back against the wall he was reclining alongside of. This was the question he was dreading; he did not know how to answer it. He took a moment before answering, sighing deeply.

"I came back because I love you, Clary."

"Jace-"

He held up a hand to stop her. "No, let me finish." His fingers started playing with a loose thread on his shirt. "I love you, Clary. And I left for three reasons. You needed time, I needed time, and I wanted to find the demon that did that to your parents. I loved them too, you know."

She sniffled again, not believing him. "Then why didn't you come back sooner?" She asked slowly, shaking her head.

"I don't know." Jace replied honestly, "I think I was afraid. I was fairly sure that you were going to hate me, and I didn't want to face that. It took me five years to face up to that. I was going to come back soon anyway, but when I found out that Beck was here, it just sealed the deal. He was my best friend when I was in Idris. I certainly didn't expect my best friend and my girlfriend to hook up when I was gone. I expected you to be faithful…" He trailed off as he realized Clary was gone. Her head had snapped up and her body had followed as she raced from the room, snatching the pictures off of the kitchen floor as she called for Beck. Jace followed her.

They found Beck in the library, studiously reading. He jumped from his seat when they burst in the door. When Clary thrust the pictures at Beck, he shuffled through them, his body growing eerily still. Clary was scared when he finally spoke.

"What is this?"

"When I was gone, I was doing research. I figured that any demon that could get the drop on Jocelyn Fairchild and Lucian Greymark was not the average lower-level demon." Jace's tone matched Beck's.

"This is real, Beck. We were right; this demon has been killing for centuries."

"Let's get the bastard." Beck's voice was final. Clary moved toward him, softly touching his arm.

"I'll call Izzy."

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Clary was on the phone for several hours. She called Isabelle, Alec, Magnus, Robert, Mayrse, and Simon; they all would be arriving shortly. Clary absent-mindedly scratched at her arm, glancing down at it. It still had not healed, and she frowned, puzzled.

"Maybe Magnus should look at that," Jace said from behind her. She turned, looking at him oddly.

"He already did."

Jace's brow furrowed; maybe Magnus was getting senile. He couldn't even heal a simple scratch?

"Did you Rune it?" He asked.

"Yes," she replied shortly. She turned all the way toward Jace and spoke clearly. "Jace, I wasn't kidding when I said that you were going to earn your stay."

"Bringing the demon to you wasn't enough?" He asked drily.

"Very funny," She countered, "But that isn't nearly enough. You can start by cleaning the yard. Mayrse was after you to do it," Her eyebrows arched, "But then you left. The rakes and shovels are in the closet by the door. Have fun." Clary smiled and turned on her heel, leaving Jace alone with his thoughts.

Jace looked after her as Clary's voice floated back to him.

"She'll be here soon; I wouldn't put it off if I were you!"

"It's after nightfall!" He yelled after her, and she peeked back around the corner.

"Scared of the dark?" She asked, thoroughly amused, "There's lights." Then she was gone.

Jace muttered curses under his breath, rolled his eyes, kicked the wall, and made rude gestures, but he did as he was told. He stripped his shirt (it was unseasonably warm) and stormed out into the yard. He hacked furiously at the leaves that had built up in the yard. All of his rage started to exhibit itself as he went to town on the foliage and dirt that was littered around. A grunt flew from his lips as he viciously slashed the soft earth with a shovel.

"Whoa, whoa. What did that earth ever do to you?"

Jace turned, slightly startled; he had not heard Beck come up behind him.

Jace turned back to his work, "What do you want?" He sighed.

"Easy, man. I came out to see if you want any help. Clary's putting Kale to bed, and I thought I'd give you a hand."

"Whatever," Jace mumbled.

Beck pulled off his shirt and grabbed a rake, silently pulling all of the leaves out from under the flowerboxes. He moved around, doing his task quietly.

_At least he is not being all sappy. _Jace thought to himself.

"So…" Beck started to say

_Never mind. _

"So why did you leave her?" Beck asked.

Jace stiffened; this was not the kind of conversation he wanted to have with the love of his life's boyfriend.

"That's none of your business, is it, Beckett?" Jace said though clenched teeth, but Beck just laughed it off.

"No, I supposed not. Just wondering, I suppose. I wouldn't be able to." He added before going back to his raking.

"Why did you come here?" Jace asked, trying desperately to get the attention off of himself.

"Long story."

"I've got time."

"Alright man, you asked for it. I was living in the Chicago Institute with my parents. I was out partying with some friends and when I got back, my parents were dead." Beck's movement ceased, and his eyes went someplace else. "They were killed in the same way that Clary's mom and step-dad were."

Jace stopped and looked at his friend.

"I'm sorry, man."

Beck snorted. "Only a mundane apologizes for something that isn't their fault."

Jace struggled internally; he wanted to ask Beck so many questions. He remained stoic; however, and they finished the yard work in silence.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Clary sat at the table, sipping coffee. Her hand came up to cover her eyes as she continued pouring over the pictures that Jace had brought. With a deep breath, Clary pushed the pictures away.

"Clarissa Fray. What ever are you doing in here?"

Clary looked up to see a tall, dark-haired woman standing in the doorway. She was flanked by a pale, skinny young man dressed in dark clothes.

"Izzy, Simon," Clary smiled and stood up, walking over to embrace her sister. "Simon, you're getting scarily good at the projections."

Simon just smiled, his white teeth glinting in the relative darkness.

Isabelle, bossy as ever, butted in, "Clary, what was _so_ important that it couldn't wait until daylight?"

"I can show you much better than I can tell you." Clary replied sadly. "Come with me."

She led them out to the courtyard, where the three could see Beck and Jace working in the yard. Isabelle gasped and almost screamed. She ran back into the house and started swearing like a sailor.

"What is he doing here? Why did you let him back in?" She yelled at Clary.

"He gave Beck and I information on the demon that killed our parents. We're just waiting for your mom and dad and Alec and Magnus to get here so we can start."

"Is this a good idea, Clary?" Simon asked quietly.

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. He's Nephilim, so I can't _make _him leave. He has info on the demon, so I don't want him to leave. Jace knows that Beck and I are together, and he is not going to come between us." Clary said with a note of finality in her voice. She left out the part where Jace had told her that he still loved her. She sighed deeply. "Look, I just want to find whatever did this, kill it, and move in. This is at least five years in the making. I just want it to end." Clary's arms were crossed over her chest like she was trying to keep herself in one piece.

Isabelle placed a comforting hand on Clary's shoulder. "No one blames you for wanting him gone. I want him gone too."

Clary smiled.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

In only a matter of minutes, the four Lightwoods were reunited. Beck and Jace were still outside, but Clary knew that she could not keep Jace's presence a secret much longer.

"Robert, Mayrse, I need to speak with you." Clary had them sit down with their coffee and listen to her.

She took a very deep breath and continued. "Jace is back."

Mayrse stiffened and nearly spilled her coffee.

Clary ignored her and kept talking, "Jace is back. He brought us some information about the demon that killed William, Joanna, Luke and my mom. And it looks like this demon has been around for a really long time. That's why I called all of you here. We need to end this, not just for Kale and Beck and I, but for everyone. This demon is still out there, killing whatever it can. We need to take it down."

"Where is Jonathan?" Mayrse asked, standing up.

"Outside with Beck. They were cleaning up the yard."

Mayrse ran from the room to the courtyard.

"Jace!" She screamed, running towards him. She fiercely hugged Jace to her, and after a moment of stunned silence, Jace's arms went around her too.

"Hello, Mom."' Jace whispered.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Beck and Jace had gone inside to get cleaned up while Clary and Isabelle Portaled to Taki's to get a very late dinner for everyone. They used the time to catch up, to laugh, to talk. They had missed each other.

Beck and Jace had just gotten out of their respective showers when Clary and Isabelle had returned with the delicious smelling food. As everyone congregated around the table and ate and drank, it felt like nothing was wrong, like everyone was old friends who had never spent a day apart in their life. It was then that Alec let it slip.

"So, Izzy how is my niece?"

Jace choked on his water, "Niece?" He managed to get out.

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**I know that I am a terrible, horrible person and I don't deserve to live. I am so sorry that this chapter took so long. I have to tell you though, that the next chapter will probably take about a week to write. There is only three weeks of school left; however, after which I can devote myself wholly to my faithful readers. **

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!**

**I know that I will be hated for all eternity for making you wait a week. I do have really good excuse (in my defense) I have finals next week, a CSI project due, and a track meet today. I suck. I know. **

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Clary looked up at Jace, who was still spluttering. "Yes, niece. And you would have known that if you had what? Oh, that's right ladies and gentlemen, _bothered to call._"

Alec snorted into his cup, the water very nearly coming out of his nose.

"Yes, Jonathan," Isabelle said coolly, "I have a daughter. It's a natural consequence of getting married and having sex."

Clary cracked up, trying to smother her laugh with her hand. She, Isabelle and Beck exchanged a look full of mirth.

"You know, I'm getting really sick of being the running joke around here." Jace's eyes flashed.

"Sit down, Jace." Magnus said carelessly. "What exactly did you expect when you returned? Hugs and kisses? Parties and presents?"

Jace looked at him sneeringly, but sat down.

Time passed quickly as the motley family talked and caught up. Every now and again, Clary would catch Jace staring at her with a passion that scared her, but as soon as she caught his gaze, Jace averted his eyes.

When everyone was finished eating and all the dishes were cleared, Clary stood and got everyone's attention, saying, "Jace has come back because he has some information on the demon that killed Beck's and my parents. He thinks he knows what it was."

"I don't think. I know." Jace muttered as he stood up. "I've been traveling, and everywhere that I've gone, I've learned a little bit more. It turns out that this demon – if I'm right – is older than we can even imagine." Jace paused and the old twinkle returned to his eyes, "What do you know about Lamia?"

"The ancient Greek queen of Libya?" Beck asked in a bored tone.

"Yes. Well, sort of." Jace enjoyed the attention he was getting. "Lamia was supposedly the granddaughter of Poseidon and Lybie. At least, that's what the legends say. In reality, she was the offspring of two unrelated demons. She was normal at first, well as normal as a demon could be," Jace scoffed, "and she looked human. She would seduce married men and get pregnant, giving birth to demons that look like snakes."

"Demons like-" Clary started to ask.

"Yes, like the one we just killed." Jace answered softly. "Anyway, one day, one of the wives, who coincidentally was a warlock, walked in on the, shall we call it, act of intimacy, and went crazy. She tried to kill Lamia, and when that failed, she killed all of Lamia's children. That drove Lamia crazy and so she ate the wife."

"Hold up. She did what now?" Simon asked incredulously.

"Yes, that's right. She ate the wife. And after that, she started to eat children. These horrific deeds turned her from a beautiful woman to a gruesome snake-like creature. And to top it all off, she's immortal." Jace rolled his eyes.

"She can't be killed?" Isabelle interjected with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh no, she can be killed. It just takes a lot. Every culture in the world has a legend or a myth about cannibalism and how it gives magical powers. The Native Americans claimed that those who ate other humans were given super strength, speed and long life. Since she's been eating people for hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years, I say it's safe to assume that the legends are true." Jace sat back and pushed his hair from his eyes. He reached behind him to the counter where the photos and other evidence sat, displaying it for the whole table to see. "And she's continued having her demonic children. From what I can tell, they're mainly doing the killing, but I'm not sure."

Beck had been strangely quiet during this whole interlude, but he spoke now. "How do we kill it." It was not a question, but a statement. There was no question among any of them that they would hunt down this demon, find it, and kill it. Everyone at that table wanted revenge, and revenge they would have.

Jace sighed. "That's what I don't know. Almost everywhere I've been to has seen this kind of demonic activity, but no one has seen it actually happen. There have been no survivors."

"How did the Clave not pick up on this? I mean, this is huge. This is a giant conspiracy, and no one has seen it? That's a load of bull." Clary's voice rang out clearly and sharply.

"It's not easy to connect. Yes, the bodies were all killed in the same way, but this thing is smart. It knows how to avoid getting caught. And no one bothers to ask about a 'typical' demonic killing anymore. It's too common."

"Well then, we'll just have to make it uncommon then, won't we?"

"That's my girl." Jace's comment was harmless enough, spoken more in a brotherly tone than one of a lover, but it was enough to rouse Beck from his intense concentration.

"It's late," he declared, looking at his watch to see that it was about 2:30 A.M., "everyone get some sleep. We'll regroup in the morning, after we've had some rest."

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Clary collapsed on the bed in exhaustion; she didn't even have the strength to remove the denim shorts and polo shirt she was wearing. Beck lay down next to her, easily pulling her against the warm skin of his bare chest. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest.

"I'm going to send Kale away for a little while." Clary said.

Beck thought about this and nodded. "That's a good idea. It'll keep him safe."

"Beck, do you think this is real?"

"Yes," Beck's answer was short, but his tone spoke depths.

"Do you think we can kill it?"

"Yes," His voice was again tight with emotion.

"Good." Clary was only able to voice that one word before her eyes closed and she drifted into sleep.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart. We'll find it, and we'll kill it. We _will_ have our revenge. I promise you." Beck looked down at his sleeping fiancée and smiled sweetly. He gently pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Sweet dreams, Sweetheart."

It was only a moment or two before he was sleeping just as soundly.

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The next morning, around 8:30, Jace and Beck bumped into each other in the hallway. Beck tiptoed from the room, silently closing the door behind him and turning abruptly into Jace.

"Easy man," Jace mumbled before walking away. Beck followed him.

"Where's your shadow?" Jace asked snidely.

"Don't talk about her that way." Beck warned, but then he smiled and changed the conversation topic. "What are you planning on doing today?"

Jace just gave him a sidelong glance, as if to say _are you kidding me?_

"Yes, I guess that was a pretty stupid question. Rack it up to lack of sleep." Beck rubbed his eyes and stumbled toward the coffee maker.

"The smell of coffee is the sure fire way of waking Clary up," Beck continued as he prepared a whopping sixteen cups of coffee. "I'll have to make a second pot for everyone else. Good thing she's done growing, otherwise the caffeine intake might have seriously stunted her growth. I don't know what she'll do if she gets pregnant." Beck continued talking, and Jace just watched him in disbelief.

_Have you always been this way? _Jace thought silently. He couldn't stop the words from exploding from his mouth. "Why didn't you ever write back?"

Beck's hand froze in mid air as he was dumping the coffee grounds into a filter.

"What are you talking about?"

"I wrote you _hundreds_ of letters when I moved here, and you didn't send a single thing back." Jace's voice was icy; he almost could not conceal his pain from Beck.

"Jonathan, what are you talking about? I replied to every single letter you wrote. I even wrote you after you stopped writing back to me." Beck's voice was skeptical.

"Don't bother patronizing me, Beck. Just 'fess up to it."

"Jonathan, I sent you hundreds of letters. I swear I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's true." Mayrse's voice came from behind the archway of the kitchen. "He did write you, Jace. I kept the letters from you."

Jace and Beck whirled to stare at her.

"What are you talking about, Mayrse?" Jace asked in a careful voice. She looked miserable.

"I kept all of the letters that Beck sent you. I still have them. I didn't let you see them because I didn't think that you were in proper shape to see them. When you got the first one, you did not come from your room for two days. I did not want to see you in such pain. I _am_ sorry, Jonathan. I am so sorry." With that, Mayrse turned and fled from the room, leaving the two boys looking after her in utter disbelief. Jace sat back in his chair, his legs unable to hold him. Beck turned toward Jace and whispered, "I'm sorry, Jonathan."

"Only mundanes apologize for something that isn't their fault." Jace quoted bitterly. His head went down and his eyes closed.

_What did I do in a past life to deserve this? My parents are killed and I'm raised by a murderer, my only friend is engaged to the love of my life, whom I left in an act of selfishness because I didn't want to see her in pain. Why is this happening? Valentine was right. To love is to destroy._

Beck laid a hand on Jace's shoulder and was surprised to see a single tear fall gently from his angelic face. He spoke nothing of it.

_. _Jace's eyes opened and his head came up. _I have to do this. For Clary. If nothing else comes from this nightmare that is my life, Clary's life _will _be made better. She will have peace for once in her life, even if it means the end of mine. _

When Jace spoke, his voice was steely. "We have a demon to kill."

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Clary woke up sniffing. She could detect that beautiful aroma of coffee wafting through the air and to her nose. She perked up, sitting upright and following her nose. She wandered to the kitchen and paused at the doorway, looking in to see Jace slumped on a stool, Beck's hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. She would come back later; they were obviously having a private moment. She turned around and quietly went back in the direction she had come from, settling at her desk in the office down the hall. In the few spare minutes she had, she was going to go over some wedding details.

Isabelle, of course, could smell party planning a mile away. Only a few seconds after Clary had gotten comfortable, a dark head popped in the door and smiled. Clary sighed.

"Come on. I could use the help. Magnus is a bit overwhelming."

Isabelle squealed in delight as she sprinted to Clary's side.

After a half hour, Beck found them. Clary glanced up and noted, "I really hope your carrying coffee."

"I'm not an idiot. Five years and I've learned that if it's before noon, I shouldn't come near you without coffee."

"You're so smart. I knew there was a reason that I kept you around." Clary smiled lovingly at him and accepted the large, steaming cup of liquid gold.

"So, uh, what are you work-"

"NO!" shrieked Isabelle, "Get out! Now! You can't see the wedding plans before the actual wedding. It's like, bad luck or something. You're going to be cursed. Now shoo."

Clary mouthed the words, _I'll show you later,_ to him and he smiled and retreated from the room.

"Wait!" Isabelle cried, "Where's my coffee?" She asked.

Beck's eyebrows rose, "It's in the kitchen. I might be cursed or something if I brought it to you while you were making wedding plans. If you want it, come and get it."  
>Isabelle's eyes narrowed, but she left the room.<p>

Beck looked at Clary curiously. "Are you okay, Baby?"

"Yes, why?" Clary looked at him questioningly.

"I don't know. You just look a little," he paused, looking for the right words, "off."

"I'm fine. Just tired." She reassured him, but neither one was entirely convinced. The truth was, she didn't feel well, and he arm was aching.

"Are you sure?" Beck asked, feeling very concerned.

"Positive. Now go back to the kitchen before you bring a curse on us for seeing the wedding plans."

Clary chuckled and went back to the papers in front of her. A few seconds after Beck left, she heard something at the doorway.

"What's that?" asked a distinctly masculine voice. Jace.

"Wedding plans." Clary answered softly, not looking up from her sketches.

Jace's eyes closed. This was the final nail in the coffin. They really were engaged.

"Can I see?" He asked quietly. She almost didn't hear him.

"Yes, Jace. You can see them if you want."

He laughed without humor. "I don't want to see them."

"I know," she whispered. "Look, I'm sorry if this is hurting you, Jace, but you left. Not me."

"I know, Clary, and I regret it every single second of every single day. When I'm away from you, I hurt. I physically ache with pain. It's eating at me; I feel like my soul is gone."

"Jace-" She tried to stop him, but he cut her off.

"I know. Nothing has changed." His voice was hollow; Clary imagined that it was the sound a dead man's voice would make. "You are in love with Beck, and you're getting married. I know. I just want you to know that I will _never_ stop fighting for you. Never." The intensity in his voice scared her, causing a shiver to rush through her body. Just before he turned to leave, he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ears, and he whispered, "Until my very last breath, Clary, I will always be trying to get you back."

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After the episode with Jace, Clary was shaky to say the least. She went to Kale's room and woke him up, gathering his things into a bag. The poor boy was sleepy, so Clary sat down and explained things to him.

"Buddy, you're going to stay with Aunt Amatis for a while, okay?"

He sat up and sleepily rubbed his eyes. "Why?" He asked through a yawn.

"Beck, Aunt Isabelle, Uncle Alec, Magnus and Mayrse and Robert and I are going on a demon hunt, and I don't know quite when we'll be back."

"Where are you going?" Kale asked in his usual policy of "ask now, think later."

"All over, which is why you have to stay with Amatis. We won't be able to take you with us everywhere."

"You're going to find the demon that killed Mommy and Daddy, aren't you?"

Yet again, Clary was astounded by Kale's perception.

"Yes," she admitted, "we are. We are going to find it and kill it to we'll all be safe."

"I know. But can't I come with you? I could help!" Kale's eye lit up with hopefulness.

Clary shook her head sadly. "I know that you are brave and you're very strong, but Buddy, I don't want to even have the risk of you getting hurt. Do you understand?" Clary looked deep into his eyes.

"Yes," he said, and he wrapped his small arms around her neck tightly. "I understand."

"Before you leave, though. We are going to go visit Mom and Dad."

Kale nodded sadly.

Just an hour later, Clary and Kale were at the cemetery, visiting the headstone that read:

_Luke Garroway & Jocelyn Garroway_

_1971-2008 1971-2008_

_Beloved Husband and Wife_

_Beloved Parents_

Clary and Kale came every year on the anniversary of their death; today marked five years that they had died. They came every year and left a dozen red roses on their graves. Though no bodies lay there, Clary had wanted something tangible to remember them by. To her, it was important that Kale remember and recognize that his parents had lived. But Clary did not just want the lonely brother and sister to remember Jocelyn and Luke; she wanted the world to remember them. Though somewhat unconventional couple were not well known in this world, Clary wanted anyone that passed by this melancholy patch of earth to know that these two people _had lived. _Even though the generations to come would not know or care about her parents, Clary wanted to leave a solid piece of their life behind.

As she kneeled next to Kale, her arms went around him, drawing him close. Clary tucked his small head under her chin and rocked him back and forth as he cried. Her tears intermingled with his.

"I know, Buddy, I know. It's okay; let it out."

Finally, his shaking body came to rest. He was spent. He looked up at Clary with his big, green eyes and whispered, "Let's go home. I need to go to Aunt Amatis's house."

Clary smiled, but suddenly, she could not move. Kale stood and tried to pull her up, but he could not.

"Clary, what's wrong?" He asked, "Why aren't you getting up?"

"I can't," Clary wheezed as she fell to the ground. She managed to force her sleeve away from her wrist, pushing it up as far as she could. Beneath the clothes, her arm glowed a sickly green and oozed blood from the cut she had received two days ago. She collapsed on the ground, her face pressed to the aromatic earth beneath her. She managed to take her cell phone from the coat pocket and press the speed dial button that connected her to Beck. Pressing call, she struggled to lift her arm to Kale, folding his fingers around the phone.

"Tell… Beck. Tell him to come…. I don't know what's wrong…. Kale, please." Gasping for air, Clary looked up at her brother. She couldn't move. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was Kale's terrified face as he screamed into the phone.

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**These are the questions I would like you to answer:**

**Is Jace tortured enough, or should I keep going with this little tangent?**

**What else would you like to see in this story?**

**Who do you want Clary to end up with…? Jace or Beck?**

**What can I do to improve my writing?**

**Do you want numerous short chapters (approximately 2,000-3,500 words) or fewer long chapters (approximately 4,000-6,500 words)?**

**As always, any reviews = Spoiler. **

_**Answer all of the questions and you'll get a DOUBLE spoiler!**_

**P.S. I have no idea how old Luke and Jocelyn are. If it was mentioned in the books and I missed it, please leave it in the reviews so I can fix it. Obviously this story takes place in the near future. I didn't want to screw up the dates too badly. **

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


	9. Chapter 9

**I don't own. Ya'll know that.**

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Through a hazy fog, Clary could hear Kale frantically crying into the phone. She could hear, but not see, feel or move. Her last thought was "_Please, just let Kale be safe…_"

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Beck stood in the kitchen, his back to the fridge. He was studying Jace, trying to determine what was going through his friend's mind. Clary had taken Kale and gone on their annual visit to Jocelyn and Luke's grave. All of a sudden, his pocket started buzzing. He stirred, rousing himself from his thoughts and reached for his phone. He saw Clary's number displayed on the screen and flipped it open, saying, "Hey, Babe. What's up?"

But it wasn't Clary on the other end. It was Kale, screaming hysterically that Clary had fallen and she was not getting up. Beck tried to soothe Kale, but it was not working. Finally, he shouted, "Kale, where are you?"

Jace looked up in mild surprise. He could heat the boy on the other end of the line, but he could not determine what Kale was actually saying. Beck slammed his phone shut and ran for the door. Jace followed, asking what was wrong.

"Clary collapsed. I don't know anything else. They're in the grave yard."

Beck had never run so fast in his life. Even with his extraordinary speed and stamina, it took him longer than he would have liked to reach the gravesite. While on the way, Jace called Magnus, explaining in breathless words what had happened. By the time that they had reached Clary's still body, Magnus and Alec were there. Magnus stood over Clary's body, searching for the faintest sign of life. Alec held Kale in his arms, restraining the screaming boy.

"Magnus, what happened?" Beck came to a roaring stop next to the warlock and fell to his knees beside his fiancée.

"Clary, Clary? Clary, can you hear me?" Beck gently shook her shoulders, trying to rouse the woman he loved from what he feared would be her eternal sleep. Magnus pulled him back, stating that he needed to get Clary to the Institute, and fast. He snapped his fingers and they were standing in the infirmary, Clary lying lifelessly on the bed. Magnus quickly set to work, banishing everyone else from the room.

"It'll do no one any good to be crowded in this room. Go wait outside." He pushed everyone out, despite Beck's hectic refusals. Once outside, Beck slammed his fist into the wall, muttering curse after curse. He heard a small sniffle, and when he looked down, he saw Kale. He held his arms out towards Beck and Beck swung him into what was meant to be a comforting hug. Alec walked away rubbing his eyes wearily, muttering that he needed coffee.

"What happened, Buddy? What did Clary do?" He asked gently.

"I don't know, Beck. She just fell down. She handed me the phone and told me to call you," Kale buried his face in Beck's shoulder, and Beck gently rocked him back and forth. "Is it my fault?"

"No, Kid." Jace's quiet answer surprised Beck, "Clary got hurt by a demon. This is just part of the symptoms."

Kale's eyes went wide as his head shot up from the crook of Beck's neck, "Is she going to die? My mom and dad were killed by a demon!"

"This is a different demon, Kale." Beck added, half grateful and half loathing Jace's answer, "After all, Clary and I go out and fight demons every day, don't we?"

Kale nodded and once again buried his head in Beck's shoulder. Exhausted, he quickly fell asleep. Over the top of Kale's head, Beck mouthed "Thank you." Jace just nodded and sank to the ground. Beck followed suit and slid along the wall, supporting Kale's small body along the way. After a few hours, Magnus came from the room, sweaty and fatigued.

"Good news or bad news?" He asked simply, refraining from adding the usual flair his vocabulary provided.

"Good,"

"Bad,"

Beck and Jace spoke at the same time, but Magnus just nodded tiredly,

"Good news is that I healed her – mostly. Bad news is that she's in pretty bad shape. I don't know if or when she will awaken. But first, I need to tell you something. What did Clary tell you about her injuries the other night when she went for her run?"

Beck shook his head, "She said that she tripped and fell in the park."

"She didn't." Magnus's tone was flat and unemotional, "She was attacked and bitten by a demon. By the time she reached my apartment, she was fading from the poison. I thought I had healed her entirely, but apparently, I was wrong." Magnus gave a humorless chuckle while running his hand through his lank, sweat-dampened hair. "Where is Alexander? I need caffeine. Badly." He walked off, calling over his shoulder in a weary voice, "You can go see her now, if you want."

Beck softly laid Kale on the floor next to him and scrambled to his feet, rushing into the room. When he saw Clary though, he stopped. He could not believe what he was seeing. The stench of sickness and death lingered in the room, and it made him gag and retch. Thankfully, his stomach was empty as he sat in the chair next to the bed and looked at Clary's pale face. She was so still and peaceful, almost like she was sleeping. Beck shook his head, refusing to let the thought of Clary's potential death enter his mind.

Beck looked down at her fragile body, and for once, he was truly scared. He collapsed in the soft chair next to the bed in the infirmary. The sun was going down, drawing the light from the room as poison is drawn from a wound. "_Poison... an appropriate analogy_." Beck thought to himself as he reached down to take Clary's cool hand. The skin felt inhuman; not soft and warm like it should, but cool and rubbery. It did not have the softness that he associated with Clary. For the first time in his life, Beck was truly terrified. If Clary died, he would have no one. He would have nothing. He himself would perish in a way, because so much of his pathetic existence lived in her. Beck pulled her hand to his lips and softly placed his kiss on her clammy palm. He stayed like that for a long while and when he pulled his face back, Beck saw a slight trail of water softly tracking down over her wrist. When he touched his face, he knew what it was. It was a teardrop – Beck had not cried in seventeen years. He looked at his fingertips and for a moment, there was peace in his mind. Then, all of his carefully kept emotions burst forth and he was sobbing. Beck pitched forward onto his knees; his body wracked with the shaking gasps and cries of his breakdown. Beck's head fell forward and rested on Clary's stomach. He stayed like that for a long time, fitfully dozing on and off. He did not move for hours, days maybe. He lost track of time, ignoring his bodily wants and needs. He only cared for one thing. "Please, Clary. Please wake up. Please don't leave me. Please." His voice was hoarse with disuse. "Please."

Out in the hallway, Jace could hear Beck sobbing in reckless abandon, and before he could stop himself, Jace felt the warm, salty tears dripping across his angled cheekbones. He reached up to brush them away angrily.

_To love is to destroy. To be loved is to be destroyed._

Clary's body was being destroyed because he loved her. Valentine was right.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Only a few hours had passed since Clary was brought home. All of the Lightwoods were frantically searching for something, anything to help Clary. Nothing had turned up yet, but Isabelle had traveled by Portal back to Chicago to search there, Robert had gone to Idris, Alec was in the Institute's library and Mayrse was in the study. But not Beck and Jace. They wandered aimlessly through the halls of the Institute, trying in vain to force Clary from their minds.

Jace walked slowly through the hall, trying desperately to convince himself of his innocence in Clary's illness. He trailed his fingers over the stenciling on the wall, feeling the slight bumps where the paint had dried. He heard his name called softly and looked in the open door across the corridor. It was Mayrse. She looked guiltily at him from behind her desk where she sat, beckoning him forward.

"Please come in, Jace," she said, "and close the door behind you."

He wordlessly did as she said and sat in one of the large plush chairs in front of her.

"Jace," she began, pulling her glasses from her face and wearily rubbing her eyes, "I need to explain why I kept those letters from you."

Jace stood up and angrily said, "Don't bother," but Mayrse stopped him with one icy look. She stood as well and commanded him to sit down. He did.

"This is not easy for me, Jonathan. But it needs to be done. When you first arrived here, you were so fragile over your," she hesitated on the next two words, "father's death," she watched as Jace winced but continued, "that you did nothing but stay in your room. You were hollow; we had to force you to eat and sleep. Just before Beckett's letter arrived, you started to get better. For once, you were animated. You moved around, talked to Alec and Isabelle, ate, slept, and drank." She paused again, struggling for the right words. "Then his letter arrived, and you were so happy. But when you read that letter, you looked like you were destroyed. You cried for days." Jace leaned forward and just barely saw the tears forming in Mayrse's eyes before they disappeared and the hardass Mayrse was back. "I kept all of the letters from you to prevent similar breakdowns."

Jace stood up in a rage, but masked it in a frozen tone of voice, "That was not your decision to make, Mayrse."

"Regardless, I made it."

"You made the wrong choice, _Mom."_

Mayrse flinched at his steely tone and sarcastic word. Without another word, Jace turned and left the room.

"I did it for you, Jonathan! I didn't want to see you in pain."

Jace paused at the door, his hand on the knob as he cast a backward glance at Mayrse. Her eyes were fiery and her face was flushed with anger and embarrassment.

"Then you shouldn't have lied to me for twelve years."

Mayrse flinched and fell back into her chair as Jace quietly closed the door behind him.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Alec stood in the kitchen, drinking coffee and observing his boyfriend. Magnus was slumped in his seat, hands in his limp hair, exhausted.

"Magnus," Alec's voice was quiet, and he was afraid that Magnus had not heard him until the warlock tiredly turned his head towards Alec. "Magnus, it doesn't look good, does it?"

Magnus shook his head and dropped his face into his hands. "No." His voice came out muffled, but Alec understood him perfectly. He moved next to Magnus and sat down, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"What can I do, Mag?"

"Coffee."

Alec stood and poured a large mug of steaming coffee and handed it to Magnus, who drained it in one long pull.

"Hit me again." He said.

Alec smirked as he complied; he filled two more cups of coffee before Magnus was satisfied.

"Thanks, Honey bear." Magnus said gratefully.

Alec's head whipped back and forth as he looked to make sure no one had heard the embarrassing nickname. When Alec looked back at Magnus, his left brow was arched questioningly. Alec raised his shoulders in an apologetic way. Magnus's smile did not quite reach his eyes as he said, "I do it solely to see you squirm."

Magnus raised his arms and arched his back against the chair to stretch as Alec moved behind him and rubbed his shoulders, Alec's strong hands worked wonders against the tight knots that plagued Magnus, and he groaned as Alec slowly worked the stress from his body.

"Ahhh," Magnus breathed as Alec moved from his shoulders, tenderly stroking the soft skin on the back of his neck. Alec leaned down and kissed the top of Magnus's head and wrapped his arms around Magnus's torso. Magnus reached up and touched Alec's face, and in that one touch, they communicated all of their anxiety, terror and love. They were so attuned to one another that they needed no words. A simple touch, a look, a gesture was all they needed – they knew how lucky they were. Alec knew that he would never need anyone else but Magnus; however, a panic in the back of Magnus's mind slowly was making its way to the light. Seven years had gone by already, and Magnus could see subtle differences in Alec's appearance. Slight lines near his eyes – smile lines, Alec convinced him – skin that was getting softer with age – he used Magnus's lotion, Alec said, wasn't that what lotion was supposed to do?. Magnus saw all of this, and it terrified him. He had not changed in eight hundred years, and he would never change again. He'd had countless lovers in the near millennium he had lived, but no one had meant as much to him as Alec had. He treasured every moment, clinging to Magnus with a passion that scared both of them sometimes. A sigh escaped his lips as he broke from his reverie.

"What's wrong, Mag?" Alec's voice was comforting, like knowing that when you wake up in the middle of the night, the nightmare was just a dream.

"Nothing. Just-" Magnus's voice broke off, unsure of what to say. "Just hold me."

Alec's breath grazed Magnus's ear when he whispered, "Always."

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

When Jace left Mayrse in the study, he angrily stormed around the Institute, deliberately avoiding any place that was likely to be occupied. He crashed down a hallway, not looking where he was going when a flash of gold caught his eye. He stopped abruptly, turning his head to see his reflection in a gilt-framed mirror set into the wall. He gazed for a long time, but this was not the self-absorbed adoration of his good looks that had existed seven years ago. This was a man studying himself, trying to see past the superficiality of his outward appearance. But when he looked in the mirror, he saw golden hair, perhaps a little too long. He saw golden eyes that were bloodshot and plagued with tiredness. He saw a handsome face, however angular and scarred it may be. Jace had once prided himself on his physical perfection. His stamina and endurance were the stuff of legends, his beauty was well known. Then Clary appeared, just a stupid mundane who was able to see him. She had trailed along, watching him with those luminous green eyes as he killed a demon, and since that moment, he had not been able to force her from his mind. She existed in his mind, never leaving, always a sentient presence. It drove him crazy in a delicious way. Jace's eyes drifted shut. Even now, behind those closed eyes, he could see Clary. Her small body was dangerously sexy – limbs lean and toned – tousled red hair that would never lay flat, wide green eyes that saw the world in a new light, never accusing but always seeing the beauty in everything. Her heart shaped face brought a literal ache to his chest. Without Clary, he felt hollow.

Without realizing he had moved, Jace stood at the door of Clary's room, his hand raised as if to knock, but he could not force his arm to shift forward. After a moment, the door swung open before him. Beck stood in the doorway. Even though less than a day had passed since Clary's accident, Beck looked as though he had aged significantly. His eyes had dark circles under them, casting shadows on his cheeks that sharply aged him.

"What do you want?" Beck's voice was dull and flat. His voice, like the rest of him, was lifeless.

Jace hesitated, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say. He stumbled over his next few words. "I… I wanted to… Clary? How is she?"

Beck's eyes dropped to the floor as he realized that Jace had not come to comfort him. He came out of concern for Clary. But was that not understandable? Jace was in love with Clary; that much was obvious. So much had happened over the last week, and all of it centered on Clary and him. From Jace's unexpected (but joyous) arrival to the bombshell surprise that Jace and Clary were once heavily involved, from the wedding plans to Clary's accident, Beck's emotional balance was shot. Beck was dangerously close to another breakdown, but instead his blood began to boil. _How dare he? Clary is no longer Jace's concern._ From nowhere, Beck's fist flew through the air, smashing against Jace's angelic face and knocking him to the ground in a crumbled heap.

"There's been no change. You're not going in there." He answered Jace's question and looked him square in the eyes.

"I'm sorry." Jace said simply. The apology came to his lips before he realized what he was saying. A sincere admission of guilt was not something that Jace did often, but this was directly from the heart; Jace was apologizing for so much.

"What for?" Beck asked mildly, not particularly caring to hear anything Jace had to say.

Jace stayed where he was, sprawled on the ground when he answered. "I'm sorry for the way I've acted. I'm sorry that," he paused, looking for the right words again, "our friendship never had the chance to mature." He jumped to his feet, trying with all his might not to let Beck see how badly he was injured. His jaw ached with a fierceness that suggested something was broken, and the slurred words that poured from his mouth only served to corroborate his diagnosis. "I'm sorry that Clary is dying!"

Just as Jace had fully regained his footing, Beck's body collided with his. Beck had flown at Jace, grabbing the younger boy around the waist and flinging him back against the wall. Fists flew, kicks were delivered, foul curses were hurled.

"Clary is not dying! Don't you ever say that, you pathetic bastard." Beck grunted as Jace delivered a heavy blow to his throat. He kneed Jace in the groin as they wrestled one another to the ground. The two men were fairly evenly matched; neither could gain the upper hand.

"I. Don't. Want. Her. To. Die. Either!" Every one of Jace's words was punctuated by a double fisted blow to Beck's back. His knees were close to Beck's head, and with a loud grunt and a wrench of his body, Jace's knee rammed into Beck's ear. His head snapped to the side, his eyes rolled back, and Beck fell into unconsciousness. Jace grunted as he rolled Beck's solid mass off of him onto the floor. He stood slowly, stretching and moving around, instinctively taking inventory of his injuries.

_Broken jaw. Split lip. Concussion. Bruises and cuts._

He winced as he took another step.

_Possible sterility._

He pushed open the door to Clary's room, glancing back over his shoulder at Beck. He lay on the floor peacefully, small trickles of blood dripping from his mouth and nose and pooling on the floor. Jace shook his head angrily and walked back to Beck, bracing himself on the behind Beck's body and kicking his chest, relishing the sound of bones cracking. Jace's combat boots were made of leather and heavy steel. Jace wiped his mouth and kicked Beck again, breaking another rib. Twice more he nailed Beck; twice more he broke Beck's ribs.

Jace felt much better now as he backed into Clary's room. When he turned to face her, he reeled back. Completely unprepared for what he was looking at, Jace fell to his knees and retched, his empty stomach forcing up the whiskey he had indulged in. He crawled to her bedside and tightly grasped one of her hands, pressing it to his forehead. Tears slipped from his eyes unabashedly as he examined her.

Clary was wasting away. She had been stricken only eight hours ago, but her body was rebelling against itself. Clary's skin was sallow; a greenish tint rested unhealthy on her skin. Her already thin physique was now emaciated; Jace could count all of her bones, tendons and muscles. Every so often her body would jerk painfully and then go deathly still once again. And the smell. The stench of infection and sickness was overwhelming.

Jace got to his knees, still clutching Clary's hand in both of his as though they were holding each other together. He brought her hand to his lips and softly placed a kiss on her palm.

`"I'm so sorry, Clare. I wish that I had never left you," Jace whispered to her unhearing ears, "But by the Angel, I swear I will make this right." He stood and stepped back from the bed. "I swear. I will find this and I will save you."

Jace grabbed the water pitcher from the bedside table and moved to the door, looking back once more at Clary's frail body. He stood over Beck's still body and slowly emptied the brimming pitcher on him. Beck spluttered awake and jerked to his feet, falling as the pain of his four broken ribs set in. He grunted and knelt in front of Jace, glaring up at him in a cold rage.

"I am going to kill you. I should have killed you when you first pissed Clary off."

"Get up." Jace's voice was cold with fury. Beck struggled to his feet, gasping as he maneuvered around his injuries. Beck leaned back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

"What were you doing in there?"

"Visiting. I wasn't aware that you are Clary's warden now." Jace's snarky nature had returned with a vengeance. "I said, get up."

"Anything that goes near Clary goes through me from now on, and you will not be anywhere near her. Understand?" Beck had stood and was now nose to nose with Jace, both of them trying to intimidate the other. Jace smirked as he pressed on Beck's ribs, rousing a deep growl from the back of Beck's throat. In retaliation, Beck's knee jerked forward and struck Jace's leg again. The two men nearly came to blows again, but the hasty arrival of Magnus and Alec prevented anymore fighting.

"What happened?" Magnus stood with his hands on his hips, managing to look bored, annoyed and amused all at the same time.

"Ask him." Beck and Jace answered at the same time, which exacerbated the amused look on Magnus's face. Beck and Jace shot each other a look.

"We are going to heal Clary." Jace said, a fire behind his eyes that incited Beck.

"Then let's get started." Magnus turned on his sparkly heel and left the way he came. Alec shook his head at both of them and gave an exasperated sigh. He threw his stele at Beck and followed Magnus. Beck and Jace stood opposite each other and stared each other down. Beck winced as he traced an _iratze _on his ribcage, sighing in relief when the pain started to ebb.

Beck handed the stele to Jace, and with that simple motion, both boys realized that they needed each other. Beck needed Jace's knowledge and research on Lamia; Jace needed Beck's rapport and social connections to other Institutes to help Clary. When Jace reached for the stele, they reached a reluctant truce: Beck and Jace would work together to save something that was ultimately worth so much more than either of them.

Clary.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

**Alrighty, there is the ninth chapter. Five topics I would like feedback on, if you feel so inclined. **

**(As always) What would you like to see more of?**

**How did you like this chapter?**

**Do you want to see Beck and Jace as friends or enemies?**

**Did you like the Hunger Games?**

**What is your favorite part of this story?**

**Thanks so much for reading! The next chapter should be up in approximately a week. Hopefully. **

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


	10. Chapter 10

**Welcome to chapter 11. I don't own it. Please take the time to read the author's note at the bottom.**

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Pain. _

_That's all there was. _

_Incredible, intense, burning pain._

_The worst pain she had ever felt. _

_She tried to move, to think, to feel something – anything – other than the pain._

_She couldn't. _

_She could feel nothing except anguish and agony. _

_Her body was on fire._

_But worse than that. Her body was being ripped apart._

_But worse than that. Her body was being crushed._

_But worse than that. Her body was being smothered._

_But worse than that. Nothing had prepared her for this._

_Why couldn't she just die?_

_Why?_

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Beck and Jace stood opposite each other, perfectly mirroring the posture of the other man. Eyes narrowed, head tilted to the side, arms folded over the chest, feet shoulder width apart, muscles tight with anticipation. They looked like they were squaring off for a fight.

And in a way, they were.

Not a physical fight to the death, but an intellectual one. An emotional one.

Well, maybe it would get physical later.

"Well…?" Beck impatiently prompted Jace.

"Well, what Beckett?" Jace asked innocently. He felt much better know. He was no longer the simpering, love sick fool that had wandered into the Institute to beg for Clary's forgiveness. No. Now, he was himself again. His attitude had returned with a vengeance. The only words that left his mouth now dripped with sarcasm and hate. There was a slightly crazed air about him that worried the Lightwoods. The glint in Jace's eye foretold a coming storm. Jace was sane for the moment, but the Angel only knew what would set him over the edge. Jace's passion for Clary was unmatched by anything they had ever seen, and being five years without her was doing nothing to aid his sanity.

Beck ground his teeth together in exasperation. He knew what Jace was doing. Jace was egging him on, trying to provoke Beck to an attack. Beck refused to give Jace the pleasure. But… he could dream. If Clary were not in need, and if Jace did not hold the answer, Beck could not be held responsible for his actions. He imagined take a cheese grater to the already scarred face of his former friend. He imagined driving a seraph blade into Jace's chest and watching as Jace's pale flesh burned and sizzled. He imagined dropping an anvil on Jace's head. He imagined Jace stepping on a rake, the long handle coming up to smack him in the face. He imagined delicately arranging a box of matches under Jace's boot and lighting his foot on fire. Beck smiled inwardly. Cartoon fantasies made him feel slightly better.

"Something funny, Beckett?" Jace asked snidely.

"Just fantasizing about what I would like to do to you if I ever got you alone." Beck's smile was slightly sinister and foreboding, but Jace's flippant answer betrayed no hint of worry.

"Everyone fantasizes about that, Beckett. After all, I mean, look at me!" Jace stood back and motioned at his long, lean body arrogantly.

"Oh, I am, and I see nothing special." Beck replied coldly. "Now tell us what you know about this demon."

Jace puckered his face and made a cat noise. "That cuts me to the quick, Beckett. I think I'll take my bruised ego and retreat to my room." He had no intention of actually doing this; of course, he could never sit idly by while Clary was in danger. It did not matter if she hated Jace for the time being, he would make her see what she was missing. He had a half formulated plan in the back of his mind that put every other scheme to shame.

"Do it and die, _Jonathan._" Beck's emphasis on Jace's full name angered him.

"My name is _Jace."_

"My name is _Beck." _

The boys stood locked in a stand off again. Now Magnus, whose head had been whipping back and forth as if watching a tennis match, stepped in and interfered. He almost didn't want to, though. There was something remarkably entertaining about watching those two verbally bitch slap each other.

"Down, boys." Magnus interjected, rolling his eyes, "I'm not nearly drunk enough to deal with this today. Jace, stop antagonizing Beck. Beck, stop rising to the bait." He snapped his fingers, and coffee appeared in front of them. "What am I, your father? Do not make me punish you. I'm definitely in favor of old fashioned torture tactics." He injected a smirk here, "It's been a while since I've seen a rack been put to good use."

Alec blushed slightly, and Magnus did not fail to pick up on it. "Alec, baby. That wasn't a rack last night." Magnus threw in a smug smile and wink just for the heck of it.

Alec blushed crimson and stammered out a few terrible excuses. Magnus's arched eyebrow only made the mortification and misery on Alec's face more prevalent, as did Jace's snicker.

"Aww, I'm sorry, honey." Magnus said, not looking sorry at all, "Now do me a favor and go check on Clary. It's been about an hour and I want systematic checks on her." Magnus leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Alec's lips and smacked his boyfriend's butt when he turned around. Alec jumped a little and ran away, muttering curses under his breath.

"He's so naïve. But that's why I love him." Magnus gave a little smile as he wiped the corner of his mouth and turned on his very sparkly heel. He was tall enough that the Victorian style shoes with a heel that was only an inch (decorated with rainbow glitter) made him taller than even Beck's intimidating frame. His slender body, however, was not intimidating in the least, seeing as how he was currently wearing hot pink leather pants that were so tight they looked painted on and a purple, low cut V-neck shirt that had the Beatles' picture splashed across the front of it. His face was adorned with heavy black eyeliner and surprise, surprise, more glitter. His shoulder length black hair was in its traditional spikes. With glitter.

"So, Magnus," Jace started to ask. Magnus turned around to look at the beautiful boy, "Did the glitter monster throw up on you?"

Magnus raised his eyebrows again, this time in annoyance. "I don't know, Jonathan," deliberately using the boy's full name, "How hard did the ugly stick hit you today?"

Jace made another cat noise, and when Magnus snapped his fingers, Jace found himself looking up at Magnus's smug and Beck's shocked faces. He looked around, wondering how he got on the floor, and opened his mouth to speak. He meant to say, "What are you looking at, jackoff?" What came out was, "Meow."

Jace was a cat.

Magnus reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, hauling him up to eyelevel. Jace hissed and arched his back.

"Keep making cat noises at me, Jace, and you will find that you will stay a cat. Permanently. And you can bet that you won't have nine lives." Magnus looked up as Alec walked in.

"No change yet, Mag…" He trailed off when he saw cat Jace in Magnus's arms, "No. Not another stray cat. You'll get attached and it will run away. That always happens."

Magnus just looked at him with a funny expression, like he could not totally contain the laughter that bubbled forth. "Trust me, Babe. There is no way that I'm getting attached to this cat." Magnus and Beck shared a look and laughed when Magnus threw cat Jace on the ground.

"Have you learned your lesson, Mister?" Magnus asked with a mock-serious tone. When the cat looked at him with venomous eyes and nodded, Magnus turned and walked into the library, casually tossing over his shoulder, "Good." Then he snapped his fingers again.

"I am so lost." Alec mumbled into his hands as he followed Magnus and Beck to the library. Then he stopped as the cat started glowing. And growing. And turning into Jace.

Alec rubbed his eyes again and turned away laughing. "It's about time someone taught you a lesson, Jace. Or should I call you 'Cat' now?" Jace stood where he was, glowering at the three men laughing at him.

"Come along, kitty. Misbehave again, and I'll change you back again."

Jace growled deep in the back of his throat, but followed them into the library to discuss their game plan.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

The boys had only been discussing their strategy for a few minutes when a bloodcurdling scream reached through the walls to their desensitized ears. Beck leapt from the table and launched himself from the room. Jace, Alec, and Magnus followed hotly in pursuit. Beck reached her room first, stopping at the door in horror as he watched her. Clary's weak body was flailing; her hand knocked the lamp off of the table next to her, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. The green tint to her skin was more pronounced, as were the bones in exquisite body. By now the four boys were all standing in the room, watching in horror as Clary's body shook and trembled. The four bystanders all took a hold of her, trying to restrain her seizing body. After a few heartbreaking moments, she was deathly still. Her chest did not move with life-sustaining breaths; her body was lifeless. Beck leaned over her still body to check for vital signs. There were none.

"Clary? Clary!" When Beck's voice ripped from his body, it was accompanied by a sob. Jace stood by in shock, eyes wide open but unseeing. Alec looked at Magnus. Magnus charged forward and grabbed Clary's body, laying her flat on the bed. He straddled her waist and starting doing chest compressions, leaning down to place his lips against hers and give her breath.

Beck collapsed back against the wall, silent sobs wracking his body. _What would he do now? Clary was his fiancée, his life, his soul. He could not – would not – live without her. But Kale needed him. But he didn't care. Clary was dead. _

"Beck. Beck! BECK!" Magnus's voice cut through Beck's painful trance. He looked up, eyes dead.

"She's alive."

Beck jumped up, lurching forward and falling on the bed, not daring to believe what Magnus was saying. But when he covered Clary's body with his own; Magnus was right. Clary was breathing again.

But she still looked like hell.

Her body was even more emaciated than it had been an hour ago; her skin still bore the ghostly green tint. Her body trembled as though cold, but her forehead burned with fever. But she was alive and breathing. And that was good enough for her.

"I want a round the clock watch on her from now on." Beck's voice was gravelly.

Magnus nodded. "Of course. But there are other things we need to worry about too."

"Like what?" Jace cut in to the conversation with an impertinent air.

"Like nutrition. In case you haven't noticed, she's lost a little weight," Magnus said sarcastically, "And soon she will have wasted away to nothing. She needs a way of getting nutrition." Magnus snapped his fingers twice, "And I have an idea."

Less than an hour later, Clary was set up with an IV, and the four men were on a conference call with the rest of the Lightwoods.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Three hours had passed since Clary's first episode. In those three hours, she'd had two more run ins with death. Each time, someone was there to give her CPR, and each time she lived. But just barely. Beck was a nervous wreck. He flinched every time someone spoke too loudly or moved too quickly.

Jace was no better. He had retreated so far into himself that he was barely conscious. He answered direct questions, but was unable to function properly. Until he heard Clary scream the second time. At that moment, nothing else mattered. He beat everyone to her room and fell on top of her, viciously hitting her chest and breathing for her. Beck had come in and angrily jerked Jace from Clary's bed, resuming the chest compressions himself.

"Okay, let's run over what we know. Again." Magnus wearily rubbed his eyes and slammed his head down against the table.

"Clary was out running, got attacked by a Lamia demon, got bit, and is now dying." Alec's voice was soft. But when he started to speak again, he became animated. He sat up fast and jerked everyone's attention to him.

"Poison!" He shouted.

"What?"

"Poison. Demon poison. When she was bitten, she was infected, and now the poison is killing her. All we have to do is find the antidote."

"What are you talking about, Alec?" Beck looked up from the solid red patch of carpet he'd been staring at for the last fifteen minutes.

"Well, how does poison affect the body?" Alec asked.

"It gets in the bloodstream. Starts shutting down the organs." Answered Jace dully.

"Exactly." Alec said with a smile.

"I don't follow." Robert said over the phone in a cautious tone of voice.

"I get it. Brilliant plan, dear." Magnus said, squeezing Alec's hand.

"Well, would you care to enlighten the rest of us?" asked Beck tiredly.

"What if we take out her blood and replace it with clean blood?" Alec asked Magnus.

Magnus stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That could work." He eyed Beck, "But I don't know for sure. It might save her, but it might kill her. I just wish we knew what the damn antidote was."

"Do it." Beck gave his answer with no hesitation. "Do it. At this rate, she'll be dead before the night's out. We need to do it now."

Magnus studied him for a few moments before answering, "Get her ready. Alec, Jace, and Beck, you'll need to break into a blood bank and take the blood. At least twelve pints." He added as he looked at Beck. "What blood type is she?"

"A negative." Jace and Beck answered together. They simply looked at each other, too exhausted to rally the energy it would take to fight.

"I'll stay here with Clary. You three need to go _now._"

The phone was disconnected and the four each went a separate way.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

In less than an hour, the boys had returned with the blood to find Magnus at Clary's bedside, surrounded by needles and tubes. Kale was standing in the doorway, Magnus unaware that he had a spectator.

"Kale, what are you doing?"

Kale guiltily looked up from his hiding place behind the door.

"What is Magnus doing, Beck?"

"He's going to try to fix Clary."

"How?"

"I don't know, Buddy," Beck leaned down and scooped Kale into his arms. Kale rested his small head on Beck's shoulder and started to suck his thumb, something he only did when he was very scared, and it did not go unnoticed.

"Kale, I'm going to take you to your room, alright? I want you to stay there until I say you can come out again."

"Please don't leave me, Beck. I-I… I'm scared." Kale's words came out difficult to hear, a product of the thumb in his mouth and shame of being frightened.

Beck placed a comforting hand behind Kale's head and gently pushed, lowering his head to Beck's shoulder once more.

"No, Kale. I need to help Uncle Magnus with this. But I promise, as soon as Clary is better, I'll come get you, okay?"

Because Kale was only five years old, he instantly believed that all stories must have a happy ending. Death was not something that he dealt with on a daily basis; Clary shielded him as much as possible from their parent's death. Even the thought that Beck may be lying to one of two people who trusted him unconditionally make him feel sick. He hated himself, but if Kale was needlessly worried or scared, the whole house would suffer, and the kid would just make himself sick.

As much as Beck tried to rationalize, he still felt guilty as sin.

After depositing Kale in his room and locking the door from the outside, Beck joined the rest of the motley group in the infirmary.

"Trust me, I was once a doctor. I studied medicine in the late 1600's." Magnus was wearing white latex gloves and a doctor's mask. It made Beck feel sick. His eyes flashed, fiery with anger. His hands flew up as though he was going to hit Magnus, and Alec stepped protectively in front of the warlock.

"This is _not_ the time for stupid jokes, Magnus. That's Clary, lying there, and you're making a joke about this? Screw you." Beck's voice broke at the end of the sentence, and Magnus decided to forgive him. He tried to put himself in this position. What if it was Alec lying on the table? Magnus knew that he would be a lot pissier than Beck was right now.

"Beck, why don't you wait in Kale's room with him?" Magnus looked at Beck with compassion. He could not begin to understand what this felt like. "You'd be more comfortable, and Kale will need something to distract him."

Beck looked past him to Clary's frail body, his face displayed anguish, sorrow, and worst of all –resign. But he nodded. Nodded and moved towards Clary. He took her hand and squeezed it tightly with both of his own. He looked down at her small pixie face and brushed a kiss against her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. He got up and walked from the room, his movements slow and uncoordinated. He paused at the doorway, looking back once more at the living body of the woman he loved. Somehow, he knew. He just knew. He knew that Clary was going to die, and there was nothing he could do. He was desperate. He kneeled outside of the doorway of Kale's room, praying for strength and patience. Then he strode in. Kale was lying on his left side, facing the opposite way of the door, but he knew that Beck had entered the room. Even though he wanted to, he couldn't stop his small body from shaking with the terrible, wracking sobs. He sat up and held his arms out to Beck, just like he used to do when he was little. It mean that he wanted to be picked up and held, rocked back and forth until he was completely at peace with the world. Beck reached over and gathered Kale gently into his arms, folding his body protectively around Kale's.

"Beck?" Kale asked, hesitating for just a moment. His thumb was in his mouth again. "Clary is going to die, isn't she?"

"I don't know, Buddy. I just don't know."

He rocked back and forth as Kale cried, and not surprisingly, Beck was crying too.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_What a baby. _Jace thought to himself. _What is Clary doing with this pansy? Can't even stand the sight of blood, _he scoffed, _how is he a Shadowhunter?_

He was smug, knowing that Clary deserved a real man. A man that relished the sight of blood, not one that was sickened by it.

Turns out the joke was on him.

Magnus nodded and began the procedure, inserting the long needle into Clary's translucent skin, effectively beginning the process of draining her blood. Jace watched with excitement; he grew anxious for her to wake up. His gorgeous face would be the first one she would see, not that controlling bastard's.

Then she started to scream.

Really, truly scream.

The utter anguish behind that voice drove him crazy. He reached out to comfort her, but Magnus forced him back.

"Don't touch her. The poison is leaving her body, but it's putting up a fight. Start getting those bloodbags ready. Do it like I showed you."

Jace wordlessly did as he was told, flinching every time Clary's wail restarted. He finished prepping the bags. He walked around the room. He twiddled his damn thumbs. But when he looked at the clock, only ten minutes had passed.

Clary's body bucked and jerked, her small pink mouth wide open as another gut wrenching scream escaped from her. Jace looked down at her small frame and wondered how he ever managed to leave her.

_Because she needed him too._

_But never again._

_Never again would he leave. _

He reached out and took her hand, ignoring the dirty look Magnus shot him. Jace braced himself for another scream, and when it came, he leaned in to kiss her. Once his lips touched hers, she stopped screaming, her body tight and trembling.

Then she stopped moving all together.

Magnus snapped his fingers and new, fresh blood flowed down the IV tube connected to her other arm. When Jace looked down at the bags that contained the contaminated blood, he saw what was causing the problem.

The blood was black.

Onyx black.

Blacker than midnight, blacker than coal, blacker than a raven's wing.

It was so black that it looked fake. It shone with an unearthly light, and Jace chuckled as he realized how appropriate that analogy was.

Clary's breathing started up again, and her color was slowly returning. Instead of being the sickly green of a few minutes ago, she now was the pink and white and red that Jace associated with her. Warm, happy colors. Feminine and sexy, yet gracefully tomboyish. He breathed in her scent, the strawberry shampoo, the grapefruit body wash that she had insisted he get her as a Christmas present six years ago. The delicate perfume that hinted of currant. The paint and paint thinner smell.

The subtle scent of Clary.

It was the most arousing thing he had ever smelled. Each of the small hints of fragrance had a different memory attached to it, and all of them were good, happy memories. He thought about that Christmas memory, losing himself happily in a dream.

"_Please, Jace? Please?" Her mesmerizing green eyes captivated him. He had seen them display hundreds of emotions: lighting in joy, drowning in sorrow, snapping in fiery anger. But this particular look captured him for some unknown reason. _

_Her eyes were begging him to do something for her. _

_It was in his power to make her happy, and it would only cost him $35.95. But gift wrapping came free with purchase. And a tube of lip-gloss. _

"_No," he had adamantly refused after taking a whiff of the delicious smelling body wash. It smelled sharp and tangy, citrusy. It completely clashed with Clary's soft and sweet. "I'm not buying that for you. I don't like it."_

"_But it's all I want for Christmas! Please?" Her soft pink lips turned outward._

_Oh, Lord. She was pouting. His resolve was wavering. He couldn't stand that face. It did strange things to his central nervous system. _

_As he leaned down to kiss the pout from her lips, he whispered, "No."_

"_Fine," she had snapped pushing his face away from hers, "Don't get it. See if I care!" And she had stormed away, her small, slender legs marching in indignation. He had chuckled at her tantrum, reassuring himself that he would be forgiven by dinner; especially if he took her to that diner she loved so much. He had been right. He was soon forgiven, but the incident wasn't forgotten. _

_So he had sneaked back to the store and bought her the flipping body wash. _

_And the lip gloss and gift wrap had come with it too. _

_She was so excited when she opened her gift, like a child on, well, Christmas morning! But she hadn't been expecting the body wash, and when she saw what it was, she tackled him, kissing his face, neck, shoulder, ears, hair – anything she could reach. _

"_I ought to buy you presents more often." Jace had stated. _

"_Well," she said innocently, "if you give me more presents, I'll give you more presents." She had opened her eyes wide and tried to seem child-like, but we both knew the innuendo behind the words. Jace had just laughed and pulled her small weight, also laughing, onto the floor. _

_Ever since then, he had really loved the scent of grapefruit._

Before he realized what he was doing, Jace leaned down and pressed his lips to hers again. She looked normal now, more like she was sleeping. Jace sat back and tried to study her face, but was distracted by a cough.

Magnus looked livid; Alec was looking anywhere but Jace's direction.

"What do you think you're doing?" Magnus asked in a cold fury, eliciting a shrug from Jace.

"Kissing the woman I love. I must admit, I feel a bit like Prince Charming, you know? Kissing Sleeping Beauty awake, and all that."

"Get out."

"What?" Jace was dumbfounded.

"Get out of the infirmary. You're not going to be anywhere near Clary until she asks specifically for you to come to her. Now leave. Before I turn you back into a cat." Magnus pointed to the door. He actually seemed intimidating. Jace couldn't believe it, but he left. Being a cat sucked.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

_Years of torture. It was never ending. Finally, after an eternity, the pain started to ease._

_Just slightly._

_Day by day, it got better. _

_But it was still never ending. _

_She was trapped behind a curtain, able to hear and sense certain things, but after a few minutes of semi-consciousness, she would fall back into her own mind._

_She could not speak. She could not move. _

_.. .._

_.. .._

One day. Two days. Three days. Four, five six, seven, eight. Eight days had passed since the massive blood transfusion, and there had been little change. He color was back. She did not scream and seize up as much. She stopped losing weight.

But she did not wake up.

Beck and Kale spent most of their time in infirmary, reading to her, spoon feeding her broth, talking to her in clear, concise tones.

It made Jace sick.

So he sneaked into her room at night and did the same thing.

He stayed until the earliest hours of the morning, holding her hand, holding a glass of water to her lips, telling her stories of where he had been and where he still wanted to go.

He even read her that stupid poetry crap she liked so much.

She used to love it when he read to her; she said that he had a lovely voice – and really, who was he to contradict her? Every part of him was lovely – and that he always had the right tones in his voice.

The only time Jace showed any animation at all was at night when he was with Clary.

So tonight, he decided to try something new. He stood next to the bed, caressing her soft, angular face. She had lost so much weight, and had regained none of it. Suddenly, his powerful arms went around her ribbon thin body, lifting her away from the pillow. He gently folded his arms around her and sat on the bed, carefully arranging her in his lap. He leaned back against the headboard and pulled her back to his chest. Her head lolled against his shoulder, nuzzling her face into his neck, and her cool breath tickled his chin.

Her adorable little backside was firmly snuggled in his lap and their legs tangled together. Jace wrapped his strong arms around her once more and took the book of poetry from the table next to him, opening to the carefully placed book mark and started reading.

.. ..

.. ..

_Clary was struggling; she fought against the dark water that kept her down. Breaking through the darkness was a ray of golden light._

_The lights are back. This is a good sign. _

_She tried to follow it to the surface, but it was not until she heard the words being spoken in that angelic voice that she could move. _

_He spoke softly, but it was enough. She followed the familiar words of William Blake to the top of the water, finally breaking through the clouds and welcomed back the sentient world._

_.. .._

_.. .._

Jace read the poem slowly and softly. He wanted Clary to hear every word of it. He realized the power of the words that described their relationship.

"I went to the Garden of Love.  
>And saw what I never had seen:<br>A Chapel was built in the midst,  
>where I used to play on the green.<br>And the gates of this Chapel were shut,  
>And "Thou Shalt Not", writ over the door;<br>So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,  
>That so many sweet flowers bore,<br>And I saw it filled with graves,  
>And tomb-stones where flowers should be:<br>And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,  
>And binding with briars, my joys and desires."<p>

A hoarse voice broke his train of thought when he was finished. Though it was rough and gravelly, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

It was Clary, saying, "You read that perfectly. I always thought that you were the prefect poem reader."

He gasped and forced her head around to look at him. When he saw the luminous green eyes (though still a little clouded) he could not help himself. He crushed his lips to hers.

And she let him.

But only a for moment.

The truth was that she had wanted to feel those lips for almost six years now. Those soft, supple lips with all their strength and sweetness and attractiveness where on hers, moving and caressing her own.

Jace's body twitched and suddenly she was underneath him. His hands were on her hips, slowly dragging her calf up to hook around his hip. He moaned against her lips, deepening the kiss.

"I've missed this, Clary. I missed you. I need you." Each word was punctuated by a soft kiss. His mouth was working wonders against hers. A small whimper escaped her mouth

"I've missed you too, Jace."

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

**Dude. This chapter is exactly 5,000 words long. That's got to be a record, right?**

**Ok, I've had a suggestion. The suggestion was to recommend a story with every new chapter, and I thought that was an excellent idea. First story I will recommend is **_**Roses are Red**_** by KissingFire. It's in the Favorite Story section on my profile. Basically, anything by KissingFire is amazing. With a capital 'A.'**

**Seven questions again:**

**Jace/Clary ship in this chapter. Good or Bad? Bueno o Mal?**

**Did you like the writing style of this chapter? I tried to make it a little snarkier and funnier. Just want to know what you think.**

**What should happen in the next chapter? I've basically got it planned; I just want to know what you think.**

**Have you read **_**Vampire Academy?**_

**Have you seen the cover art for **_**Clockwork Prince? **_**Leave your thoughts in the review that I'm sure you're going to leave.**__**Holy Platypus, it's amazing! I'm even more in love with Jem now. :P (If you haven't seen it, go Google it right now!)**

**What kind of story would you like to see me write next? .**

**Jamie Campbell Bower was cast as Jace. Thoughts? I was really disappointed at first because I love Alex Pettyfer as Jace, but now I kinda like JCB. Maybe my feelings may grow into love. We'll see.**

**Hope you enjoyed it. **

**Oh, I would like to give a personal shout out to Alex Pettyfer. He is easily one of the most beautiful men on the planet. **


	11. Chapter 11

**I don't own. *sob***

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

"I knew you still loved me. I knew you still wanted me." A voice that dripped with honey and silk caressed Clary's ears just like the soft, sweet lips caressed her lips. Soft moans and the sound of skin on skin punctuated the silence. She knew she should stop, but it felt so good. She had waited five years for those lips, and now she never wanted to let them go. A small voice in the back of her head suddenly wasn't so quiet anymore.

_Beck!_

Clary's mouth ripped away from Jace's, and he looked startled to say the least. His eyes were a delicious darkened tawny color, his lips swollen from the passionate encounter only moments ago.

"Stop." Clary put one hand on his chest and pushed away from him. "This is wrong."

Jace leaned in and crushed him to her again and whispered between the kisses, "No, Clary. For once, this is all right."

This time, she was angry. She roughly shoved him away. In her weakened state, however, she very nearly pushed herself off of the bed. Only Jace grabbing her forearms and dragging her in again prevented her from a very ungraceful tumble from the bed.

This time, she was pissed. Clary opened her mouth as though she was allowing him to deepen the kiss, and he took the bait. His tongue slid into her mouth and with one quick motion, her teeth snapped shut. He yelped and jerked back, putting his hand to his mouth with a hurt expression. Clary raised an eyebrow and said, "I told you to stop."

She rose from the bed and precariously tottered to the door. She was weak and in pain, but she needed Beck. Before she could reach the door, however, Jace leapt in front of her and blocked her path. She glared up at him, telling him to get out of her way.

"No. You are _definitely _not in any condition to be moving. You've been unconscious for over a week! I'm going to get Magnus. Stay here." He pushed her back on the bed and walked to the door, muttering something that sounded like, "And you don't want _me _to kiss you? You're definitely not in your right mind." As soon as the door closed, Clary was up from the bed again and moving towards the door.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Jace closed the door behind him, still reeling from the fact that Clary didn't want to kiss him. What was this? Every woman in the world wanted to kiss him! He'd proved that _many_ times over in the last five years. Anywhere he went, women swooned over him.

Although, telling Clary that he'd had multiple romantic encounters while she was pining for him probably wouldn't make her very fond of him.

In his defense, he'd never gone very far. Only once had he gone past first base, and that was when he was _very _drunk on some _very_ strong Russian vodka that could knock out a whale.

And even then, he only went to third base. He didn't get all the way home.

He arrived at Magnus's door, still musing over the hilarity of the depth of Clary's messed up mental capabilities. He pounded on the door, but after a few minutes, he wondered if he should just leave. Magnus flung the door open wide, and he looked pissed.

Like, beyond pissed.

Uber-pissed.

Jace was scared for his life.

"This had better be very good, Nephilim," Magnus made the last word sound like an expletive, "You woke me from a dead sleep. I know that I am stunningly attractive, but I still need beauty rest." Magnus wiggled his fingers while he talked, and threatening blue sparks jumped from tips.

So Jace quickly made his point.

"Clary's awake."

Magnus's cat eyes shot way, way, way open. "When?"

"Just now."

Magnus turned to go back to his room but then froze. "How do you know?" He turned on his heel in a very creepy fashion.

"I was walking by her room. I needed a drink." Jace answered drily, eternally grateful for his amazing skill at lying. "I heard a noise behind the door, so I checked on her." Jace leaned against the doorway and pretended to examine his nails. "That is still allowed, right? I am allowed to check on the invalid?"

"Keep making smart remarks," Magnus said coolly, "And you'll face a punishment that is a lot worse than being turned into a cat."

Jace rolled his eyes as Magnus retreated back into his room. "I saw that, Jace."

Jace peeked around the door. "Where's Alec?"

Magnus just smirked at him. "He was a bad boy. I made him sleep elsewhere."

Jace shuddered, not even wanting to try to think about what Magnus meant.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Clary was exhausted. Walking five hundred yards had never been so exhausting. Her legs were trembling, sweat was pouring down her back. She clutched the wall as though she were drowning and the wall was a lifeboat that was leading her out of the water and back to land. Back to where the coffee was. Finally, she reached the door of the room that she and Beck shared. She fell forward and grabbed the handle, wrenching it open and stumbling inside and knocking over a table. Beck shot up from the bed, swearing and grabbing the dagger he kept by the bedside. He looked down at the small body and replaced the dagger, slowly getting out of bed and walking over.

"Kale? What are you doing?"

Clary snorted. It was so dark that he had mistaken her for her brother.

"Come on," she said in an exasperated voice, "I know that I'm short, and I know that my brother and I look a little bit alike, but are you seriously confusing me with a five year old boy?" She looked at up him; her voice was weak and it wavered pathetically, but Beck understood. His head shot up and he dove forward on to the floor. He grabbed at her with frantic hands, not daring to believe that it was really her, that she was really alive.

He groaned into her hair, "If this is a dream, don't wake me up!"

She giggled and pulled him away for a chaste kiss. "You are awake. I'm really here." She snuggled into his warm embrace and smiled against his chest as he kissed his way across her neck. Then a troubling thought overcame her.

"Beck," she started to say, but got distracted when she had to push Beck's mouth away from hers. He growled. "Don't you growl at me!" She reprimanded him, and shook her head at him. He sighed and nuzzled his face against hers for a moment.

"What?" He grumbled.

"Beck, what happened? I don't remember anything. All I know is that I fell down at the graveyard."

He looked deep in her eyes and pressed his nose against hers. "I want to strangle you."

Clary was alarmed for a moment. "Wh- What? Why?"

"You lied to me, Clary. You lied! You told me you fell and scratched your arm. A demon attacked you, Clary. A demon!" He stood up roughly, depositing her on the floor in an unceremonious heap. His voice as raised now, a sure sign that he was terribly upset. "Clary, what would have happened if you hadn't gotten to Magnus's?" Clary was shocked at this outburst. Beck was usually so calm and collected. "You would have died. You. Would. Have. Died!" He punctuated each word with a flip of his hands. Then he sank down beside her again, burying his head in his hands. Clary reached out and placed one hand on the soft, blue plaid pajama pants he wore to bed and the other on his bare chest.

"I'm sorry, Beck. I didn't think it was serious. I didn't want you to be upset."

"Yeah, well, tough luck." Beck's voice was uncharacteristically bitter. Clary managed to pull herself into his lap, though she gasped at the pain. Beck's head instantly cocked toward the small noise of pain.

"What's wrong?" All anger was instantly forgotten.

"Nothing," Clary smiled, "Just a little sore."

Beck's smile took a sinister tone to it. "Oh, really?" He stood up again, lifting her with him and gently depositing her on the bed. He lay down next to her and placed a kiss on her lips. "Just how sore are you?"

Clary giggled again and pulled him closer, "Not _that_ sore." She started kissing him with a passion and myriad of emotions ran through her. She knew that she loved Beck, but what almost happened with Jace scared her. She was relieved she was no longer in pain, but she was worried about a relapse. So Clary did what she could do. She channeled all that fear and anger and relief and elation and love into a beautiful kiss.

Regrettably, Beck pulled back. "Clary, I don't think we should do this. I don't think you're well enough-"

He was cut off by Clary' lips

"Please? I want this." She cuddled closer to him, her hands tracing patterns on his chest. He shuddered and flipped their intertwined bodies so that he straddled her waist. He lifted her shoulders just enough to slid her shirt off, leaning down and creating soft patterns on her shoulders with his lips. Her hands reached up for his pajama pants and-

She fainted.

Beck panicked.

He waved his hands in front of her face.

He shook her shoulders.

He slapped her.

He dumped water on her.

Finally, he called for Magnus.

Magnus, of course, was able to wake her up instantly.

Stupid warlock.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

Magnus was exasperated. "Okay, one more time. What happened?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed theatrically. Clary rolled her eyes as she answered.

"I don't know." She spoke slowly, as though speaking to a small child. "All I know is I woke up, it was dark, and I wanted to find Beck, so I got up and went to our room. Jace was doing something and saw me get up, I guess." Clary was just as annoyed as Magnus, "Ask Jace what happened. I'm sure he knows better than I do."

All eyes turned to Jace, who raised his arm and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's pretty much what she said. Can I go back to bed now?" He looked bored, and his voice dragged as though he were very tired.

"What were you doing near her room?" Beck asked, slightly standoffish.

Jace looked at him, assessing Beck with a look of annoyance, as one would assess a fly. Clary's eye widened and she held her breath. Jace looked as though he might actually be considering telling Beck what had happened.

After what seemed like forever, Jace answered. "I was getting a drink of water, Beckett. Or is that not allowed now? Are guests simply supposed to dehydrate during the night?"

Beck narrowed his eyes like a cat but did not reply. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Clary shoulders and swept her into his arms. She giggled and clutched at his neck as he whisked her from the room, proclaiming that she needed her rest and that there would be plenty of time to talk in the morning. Clary placed her soft lips against Beck's temple and left them there for a moment. When she pulled back, they looked at each other with a gaze of intense love.

It made Jace sick.

He turned and left the room, trying to force the look on Clary's face from his mind.

**\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\**

"I'm fine, really!" Clary repeated in exasperation for the tenth time in twenty minutes.

"No, you're not!" Beck countered calmly, "You've been unconscious for over a week. You are not fine."

"Yes, I am! Look!" Clary cried, "I have full range of motion," she demonstrated by moving her arms and legs in circles, "I walk and run," she took a few laps around the room, "and I can lift!" She grabbed Kale from his spot on Magnus's lap and swung him into her arms. Kale's bell-like laughter filled the air and he wrapped his arms around Clary's neck, pulling her tightly.

Beck smiled, but he reached over and plucked Kale away from Clary. When he started to pout, Beck warned him with, "I don't want to risk hurting Sissy. Do you?" He looked at Kale somberly and Kale returned the gaze with a nod.

"I agree," he said with a sigh, "We need to be careful around Clary."

Clary threw her hands up and announced for the eleventh time, "I'm _fine!"_

"Beck is right, Clarissa. You need to err on the side of caution." Clary glared at Magnus, and he returned the fierce gaze. "Don't look at me like that, Little Shadowhunter."

"Look, as much as I like discussing Clary's personal well-being, we have other things to discuss," Jace interrupted in a dry tone, "Such as this demon and what we're going to do about it."

"We're going to kill it, stupid." Beck's voice rang out with a clarity that turned heads.

"And just how," Jace lazily drawled his words out, "Do you propose we do that?"

"You and I are going to go visit that contact in the Czech Republic you were telling me about. We'll gather as much information as possible and when we return," Beck's threatening smile was scaring Clary a little, "We'll find and eradicate the demon."

Jace's eyebrow quirked up. "What's this 'we' business?"

Beck's eyebrows narrowed and he shifted Kale around on his lap. "You hear me. You _and _I are going to go visit this person and get info on whatever it is that's attacking and killing."

"No, we're not."

"Yes, we are."

"_No, _we're not."

"_Yes,_ we are!"

With some amusement, Clary noted that Kale's and Magnus's heads were whipping back and forth like they were watching a tennis match. A wave of fatigue washed over her as she interrupted. Suddenly, she felt like a mother that was trying to break up two bickering brothers.

"Alright, that's enough. Before you two start a shut-up-no-you-shut-up fight, Jace, tell me why you aren't going with Beck." Clary rubbed her eyes and looked towards the blond angel who suddenly looked very sheepish.

"I…" The rest of Jace's statement was lost in a mumble.

"What was that?" taunted Beck.

"I said," Jace answered, glaring at the dark-haired boy, "That I can't go visit that contact anymore."

"Why not?" Clary asked through a sigh.

"I… Kind of… I- accidentally blew up his girlfriend's house."

"You… what?" Clary asked in shock.

"I blew up his girlfriend's house. It was an accident!" Jace said defensively. "The guy is pretty weak, you know, really hen-pecked. There was something inside her house, so I just blew it up, rather than get messy." Jace shrugged. "It seemed like the best option at the time. Anyway, she didn't like that so much, so when Jereni threw a hissy fit, Vanya threw me out. I'm not going back there. Besides, there was no running water." Jace finished, but as an afterthought added, "Or cell service."

"Not that you needed cell service anyway…" Alec muttered. Jace pointedly ignored him.

"I will visit my contacts in South America, and you can go to Eastern Europe, Beck." Jace said sweetly. Beck glared, but Clary was in no mood to deal with their arguing anymore.

"That is enough!" She shouted. "I'm sick of this constant fighting over who gets to be alpha male. I'll give you a hint; it's neither one of you! Beck," she whirled and pointed at her fiancée, "You are going to the Czech Republic. Glean as much information as you can. Jace," she spun on her heel and put a hand out to steady herself, "you are going to South America to do whatever you can there. Now," she started to wrap up her rant, "I don't want to hear _anymore_ bickering or complaining or taunting from either of you. I'm done with it. Either you stop, or you leave. Your choice." She faced Beck again, but it was only to get her brother. "Come on, Kale. Let's leave them to think about what they'll choose."

Kale hopped off of Beck's lap and followed Clary from the room. The other four men were left in a stunned silence, until Magnus clapped his hands and smiled. "I rather like the way she handles you two!"

**\\\\\\\\\\\**

As Jace left his room, a voice coming from the window made him freeze. Beck was lounging in the window seat, lazily playing with a bit of loose strong on his shirt.

"Clary's right, you know." Beck sat up and looked Jace square in the eye, for once as an equal, not an enemy. "We need to stop being so petty. I think that you do have an agenda, but for the time being, we need to stop acting like this. Walking around and beating our chests will get us nowhere. We should start working together. We'd get a lot more done." He stood and added, "We'd accomplish more if we would stop antagonizing each other."

Jace looked blankly at Beck for a long time. A million emotions flitted through his mind. Relief that Beck was the first to cave. Anger that Beck would dare to tell him what to do. Joy that Beck was willing to stop fighting and be friends again. Pain at the thought of losing Clary to Beck.

Finally, he nodded. "Fine," was all he said. Beck nodded and turned away.

Jace's eyes followed him down the hall. All that mattered right now was Clary. After Clary's life was out of danger and her parents murders were avenged, Jace could focus on getting her back.

And, he thought to himself, if he was the one who delivered the demon to her, wouldn't she be forever grateful? It was only natural that those feelings of gratitude would lead her to realize that her undying love for Jace would overcome anything she felt for Beck.

Jace reached for an apple from the bowl and took a self-satisfied bite of the juicy flesh beneath the skin.

His plan was foolproof.

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**There is chapter eleven. Personally, I think it sucked, but leave your thoughts in the review box.**

**I've been on a oneshot rampage lately, and it's because I've run into a little problem with this story. I honestly can't decide which ending I want the most. I have three different feasible endings that I love, and I can't start the next chapter until I decide. So, please don't expect chapter 12 for **_**at least**_** a week, probably definitely more.**

**I know, I suck. I'm sorry.**

**Please answer these questions anyway, and I **_**will **_**give you a spoiler. That much, I at least have planned. Please try not to hate me too much. That'd be really great, thanks.**

**How's the angst level in this story?**

**What kind of ending would you like to see? (Angsty focus on Clary, Angsty focus on Beck, Angsty focus on Jace?)**

**Who do you picture Beck to look like?**

**Do you want Beck and Clary to get married?**

**Do you want to see some more of Kale?**

**What kind of one-shots would you like to see me write?**

**What is your favorite book (or book series)?**

**Please feel free to ask me questions or leave (helpful!) criticism. Thanks!**

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


	12. Chapter 12

**Read the Author's Note at the bottom before you try to kill me. **

**I don't own this right now. Or ever, probably. **

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Clary felt like crap. Wait, no. Clary felt like crap that had been run over by a truck, set on fire and stuck in the garbage disposal.

"I'm fine!" She shrieked at Beck, who was trying to ladle soup into her mouth. Clary's hand thrust up, knocking the spoon from his hand and sending drops of tomato soup flying through the air. Beck gasped and jerked back to avoid being splattered with the dark red cream. "And I'm _not hungry." _He glared at the slight red head in front of him and groaned.

"Stop being so difficult!" He growled, "You are _not _fine. You almost died. Several times." He stood and ground his hands against his eyes. "And you know what else, Clary? I'm getting really sick of this attitude." His eyes shot daggers at her once more before he stormed from the room. Clary groaned and flopped back against the stack pillows, wrenching the sheets up around her chin. Curling onto one side, Clary tucked her bent arm under her head and tried to straighten out her jumbled thoughts.

_What happened? _She thought. _I don't understand any of this! _

A week had passed since Clary became ill. A week had passed since the massive blood transfusion. A week had passed since she had Jace had nearly…

Clary shook her head, refusing to let the image of her and Jace almost giving into each other run through her mind. She wanted to forget. She _needed _to forget. She and Beck were happy. She and Beck were going to get married. Of course Jace would come along and screw with her head. Once again, he was messing with her life.

Even in the midst of her deep thoughts, the door opening caught Clary's attention. She closed her eyes, not turning over. She knew who it was.

"Ugh. Go away, Beck. My attitude really hasn't changed at all." She tried to blink back the tears that were trying to form behind her eyes.

"It's not Beck." Jace's honeyed voice flowed over her body like silk, producing a tangible reaction even after five years. "It's me." He paused. "Jace."

"I know who you are." Clary retorted, "It's not like I've never heard your voice before." Clary still laid toward the wall, refusing to turn to Jace. She knew exactly what would happen if she did. She would give in. As much as she hated herself for it, as much as she could refuse to acknowledge it, there was no denying it in the end. Clary was still in love with Jace.

She was attracted to him like a moth to flame. How ironic, she thought, that such a perfect analogy came to her mind. Jace was like a flame, brilliant and glowing, bringing warmth and light to everything he touched, but at the same time – deadly. Jace glowed with an intense passion that had the ability to burn everything that surrounded him to ashes.

And the truth was Clary was burning. After that night, only a week ago, Clary had to force herself to expel Jace from her mind. He was around every corner, he was just behind the door, he was in the corner of every room she walked into. His presence engulfed her in a fiery inferno of passion and love. Clary realized this and she thought that Beck did too, at least on a subconscious level. She was unintentionally distancing herself from her fiancé and she hated it. Not even fifteen minutes ago, she had Beck had been at each other's throats, fighting over what? Beck's willingness to take care of her and his love for her? Clary's refusal to let him?

"Clary, look at me." Jace's velvet voice caressed her ears and ignited something within her. But Clary tamped it down. She was good at self-sacrifice. She could handle this.

"No. Leave me alone, Jace." Clary's voice was icy, and Jace's blood froze as he realized that she was not going to let herself be so easily swayed. He set the bowl of soup down on the end table and smoothly strode towards the bed, rejecting the fear and anger in his heart. He kneeled on the large bed and crawled toward her, the mattress sinking under the added weight. He shaped his body to hers, draping an arm over her slight frame and nuzzling the nape of her neck.

Clary shot straight up, knocking Jace away from her. "What are you doing?" She hissed through her teeth. Jace smirked as he lounged on one elbow, taking Clary's hand and lazily tracing the purplish vein in the sensitive bend of her arm. "Stop that." She jerked her arm away from him and Jace collapsed back on the bed. He looked up at her through his long, golden lashes and smiled at her sexily.

"I'm showing you your memories." When Clary rolled her eyes, Jace put up one finger to stop her. "Don't try to deny it. I _know _you love this. As I recall, you begged for it one time. I distinctly remember the way you were moaning my-" The look of self-satisfaction on his face made Clary cringe away.

"Jace, get it through your thick head. I. Am. With. Beck. Not you. I love Beck. Not you. When _you_ left, _you _ruined the chances of our life together. And for what? Because you couldn't handle me dealing with my grief over the _death of my parents?" _Clary leaned forward to get into Jace's face in what she hoped was an intimidating way. "You're a coward, Jace." She expected Jace to flinch away, to run from the room, to hate her. She expected an ugly reaction or a screaming match. What she did not expect was a kiss.

And yet, Jace leaned forward the rest of the way, closing the gap between their lips, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and holding her captive against his body. And for the moment, she let him. She leaned in further, attacking his lips with passion and longing. Jace's lips softly separated hers, and Clary's mouth fell open, inviting him in for a deeper kiss. His warm tongue gently explored her mouth but after only a few seconds, Clary's teeth clamped down. He yelped and wrenched back as Clary scuttled away from him and bounded from bed to the safety of the floor. She looked up at Jace's golden eyes that burned with the intensity of their kiss with accusing eyes. With the edges of a black tank top peeking over the top of the white sheets tangled around her lithe body, Jace thought she'd never looked sexier.

"I know you liked that, Clary. I know that you still love me. You kissed me back-"

"No, I didn't." Clary contradicted, "I was trying to get you off of me." Clary's voice rose marginally at the end of her sentence, and Jace picked up on it.

"You're lying." His gaze was steady, burning holes in her own.

"Leave now." Clary's voice shook in anger as she bade Jace go away. He stood and obliged.

"Clary, I know you better than anyone. Just remember that next time you try to lie to yourself or me." He paused at the doorway. "Eat your soup." His voice was cold and strong with the withheld emotions as he left Clary to her scattered and unclear thoughts.

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Jace slammed the door behind him in anger and confusion. What was wrong with that woman? Why wouldn't she just give in? Clary still loved him, he was _sure of it. _He had never been so sure of anything. After that night a week ago, Clary had been seeking him out. She followed him around the corner; she "wandered" into rooms that he was in. And just now? Just now was easily one of the best kisses of his life. Definitely in the top twenty. No – top ten.

Jace sank to his haunches, sliding down the door until his bottom rested against his heels. Reaching up, he buried his head in his hands and thought over the past few minutes.

_Beck came storming from the door, angrily muttering about an attitude adjustment and some damn soup. Jace leaned from the door of the library that just _happened _to be across the hall from Clary's room and asked what was wrong._

"_That woman is _infuriating _me!" Beck was not yet yelling, but his voice was raised. _

"_Hold up," Jace replied in a calm voice, already contemplating how he could use this to his advantage, "What's wrong now?"_

_Beck turned and motioned heatedly at the bedroom door behind him. "She's copping an attitude because I pointed out the fact that she's still sick. Clary's really pissing me off this time!" Beck made an irritated noise and stomped down the hallway once more. _

"_Should I give it a try?" Jace called after him, only half-joking. _

"_Like I care." Was Beck's acidic response. Jace just smiled. Perfect opportunity. Beck has practically invited him into Clary's bedroom._

_Fatal mistake, my old friend. Fatal mistake. _

Jace sighed again and stood to march to his room. Back to the drawing boards.

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An idea had struck Clary, and it was brilliant, if she said so herself. She roused from her bed and dressed in a new tank top and mesh shorts, drawing her hair up into a long braid that spouted from the top of her head. Silently she slipped from the bedroom and stole down the hallway to one of the newer, high tech training rooms. _Another one of Beck's institutions_, Clary thought fondly. Then she giggled out loud at her unintentional pun. Opening the door, she entered the spacious, well-lit room and set up several of the training dummies so that she might finally prove to Beck and all the rest of them that she was truly fine. Sure, she was still a little sore and uncomfortable, but that was typical of any illness, wasn't it?

Clary reached behind her to grab her foot and ease it up in a comforting stretch, pulling her quadriceps tight. She relished the pain it brought; it was the pain of release. It was the storm before the calm. She switched feet and alleviated the stiffness in her other leg before moving on to her arms and back. After nearly a half an hour of warm-ups, Clary started by practicing her hand to hand combat.

Clary grunted in effort as she threw a right hook at the dummy's face, then grabbed its shoulders and forced the dummy to bend at the waist, shooting her knee up towards the abdomen at the same time. Clary released her hold and ducked to the ground, rolling twice before popping up behind it to throw another punch. Just as her arm was flying forward, however, Clary cried out as a sudden, severe pain shot through her arms and down her back. She collapsed to the ground, gasping and choking, curled into a ball as she bit her lip to keep from screaming.

After several long minutes of agony, the pain passed and she looked at the clock. She had been practicing for less than ten minutes (time spent on the ground included) and she had to quit. On the average day, Clary practiced for at least five hours, and she could barely manage a fraction of that time now. She felt an unwanted tear slip from her eyes as she curled up again.

Hastily, she brushed all evidence of her tears away from her face and sat up as she heard the light padding of little bare feet coming towards her.

"Clary, why are you on the floor?" Kale looked at her with an innocence that can only belong to little children as she drew her brother to her lap.

"I'm just very, very tired." Clary murmured against his forehead as she dropped a kiss against the crown of Kale's head. "I was resting for a moment." Clary hoped and prayed that Kale would not ask why she was tired or why she had been so sick, but it was all in vain. The next words from Kale's mouth were the very words she was dreading.

"Clary, why did you fall asleep at Mommy and Daddy's grave?"

Clary lifted her face from Kale's temple and answered as honestly as she could. "I got very sick, Buddy. I still am, a little. But I'm getting better, I promise. Soon we'll be back to playing all day long." Clary paused, a twinkle in her eye. "You know, I bet if you ask Beck, he'll play anything you want. Maybe he'll even play Rodeo with you."

Several months ago, Kale read a book about the Wild West and had since been obsessed with it. Anything even pertaining to cowboys in the slightest was not safe, hence Beck and Clary made up a game called Rodeo to entertain Kale. It consisted of Beck kneeling on the floor with Kale on his back as he tried to "buck" the young boy off. Beck absolutely hated that game, for obvious reasons.

"Yes!" Kale crowed, jumping from her lap and trying to pull her up. Clary laughed again, masking the pain that shot through her arm once again as she shakily got to her feet. Kale was out the door by the time Clary had taken three steps when Beck poked his head through the door.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked anxiously. "When I went to our room you weren't there and I got so worried, I-"

Clary cut him off with a wave of her hands. She motioned him forward, not trusting herself to walk the rest of the way. Beck stumbled towards her, falling into her arms in relief.

"I'm sorry, Beck. About earlier and now. I didn't mean to worry you. I was just trying to get out of that room. I needed to move around." Beck's lips crashing down on hers ended her worried apology.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. I love you so much. So, so much." Beck's arms were around her waist while his lips explored every bit of her face.

"No, it's not okay. It's not okay." Clary gasped as Beck's lips grazed the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "I'm horrible. You were right. I'm not better yet. Please, Beck. I'm so sorry." A devious smile played at her lips before an innocent look graced her face. "I'm so sorry, and I really, _really_ would like to make it up to you, by _any_ means necessary." She winked at him. "And I do mean _any."_

Beck's eyebrows quirked up as he caught the double meaning behind her words. He ducked his head towards hers once more, brushing their lips together softly. Their sweet reunion was interrupted, however, by a very persistent five year old, who demanded that they play a game. Clary coyly suggested that they play Rodeo, enjoying the gleam in Beck's eyes as he observed Clary's suspiciously innocent face. He knew exactly what she was up too.

For a long time, they played in the training room, the small makeshift family easily fitting into the joy they once had, the joy of each other. It seemed so long ago that Jace had reentered their lives, complicating everything that they had once held dear. Hours passed as they reveled in each other's company.

Little did they know that all was observed by a blond-haired, angelic boy. Little did they know the plots forming in the back of his mind.

Little did they know.

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**Yep. **

**I suck.**

**I know. **

**Really. **

**I know.**

***dodges flames and rotten fruit***

**I got really caught up in **_**Brooklyn by the Water at Night,**_** my new story and a bunch of my oneshots.**

**Oh, and real life. Real life was thrown in there too. **

**I know it's a cliché to blame not updating on real life, but seriously, it happens. And it definitely happened to me. **

**The nice thing is, I have the rest of the story planned out! Yay! Right?**

**Anyway…**

**Who is your favorite English actor? Mine is Richard Armitage, at the moment,**

**Have you read **_**The Wolves of Mercy Falls**_** by Maggie Stiefvater? If you haven't, shut down the computer, log onto Wal-Mart's online store and BUY THEM! It is an excellent story. Absolutely beautiful.**

**Leave me some love.**

**Story Rec: **_**Dream a Little Dream of Me**_** by my favorite FanFic author, KissingFire. Dude. She favorite one of my stories. I think I can die a happy woman now… Totally made my decade. **

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi. I know that I suck; you don't need to say it.**

**WARNING: This chapter gets a little steamy at the end. Don't worry, there's nothing graphic. I don't do that. This story will stay rated T.**

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_CRACK!_

The dummy's head rolled to the floor, the slightly smoking cloth-covered plastic offering an acrid smell to the air. Jace stood back, his skin gleaming with the sweat of his intense workout. Raising his hand, he raked his hair back and wiped sweat from his face. Again and again he had attacked and destroyed the training dummies in the practice room. Again and again he tortured himself with the images of Clary and Beck kissing, touching, and being in love.

It fueled his passion. It fueled his rage.

He needed this, this release of tension and anger. It was like a drug for him, he constantly craved this feeling. He only felt whole when he fought. It was his nature. But yet…

He felt whole with Clary. He needed her more than the air he breathed. Those five years without her… Not torture. Jace could handle torture. Torture was mere physical pain. Being without Clary… the feeling was indescribable.

Five years.

Five years of every single nerve in his body alight, burning with an intensity that made the sun, in all its magnificent fire and glory, seem to be an insignificant candle. Five years of emotional anguish, a feeling akin to drowning, but the relief of death never came. Instead, every second of every day was spent in that netherworld between death and life. Every single second of five years.

He had not called. He had not texted. Emailed, visited. Nothing. He could not take the risk, for he knew that the second he saw Clary's face, the second he heard her voice, anything left of Jace's self-resolve, his determination, would crumble. He would run to her arms and collapse in heaping sobs, begging her forgiveness and mercy. He would do _anything. _Beg, kiss her feet, worship the very ground she traversed. _He needed her. _

Then, he got the proof he needed. He finally found evidence of the foul creature that tore Clary's life apart. He could finally return to Clary.

But he didn't expect that she would move past him. He didn't expect that she would forget him so quickly. He spent five years obsessing and craving her.

And she had moved on.

His long pianist's fingers shook with fatigue as he clenched the blade in a death grip; they mimicked the trembling body to which they belonged. The seraph blade glowed hotly in his hand before it savagely dismembered another practice dummy.

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"Clary."

Beck's soft voice startled her, causing her to wince as a few drops of hot coffee splashed onto her hand from the pot. She put her fingers to her mouth and turned, stopping short at the overwhelmingly somber look in Beck's eyes.

"What's wrong?" She dreaded the words that would then come from Beck's mouth without even knowing what was wrong.

He pulled his hands from behind his back; clutched in them were various papers and photos. His next words made her blood run cold. "Jace was right."

She shook her head and turned back around to face the counter. Setting her coffee cup down, Clary braced herself against the cool, smooth, black marble top. Shaking her head again, she answered him in a word: "No."

Beck took two halting steps toward her, reaching out, and then dropped his hands to his side once more. "I'm sorry."

"No." Clary repeated one more time. "If you say he was right, that validates the last five years." Beck winced at her words and took a step back away from her. But then he stopped. Shaking his head, he slammed the papers down on the island and crossed the remaining three steps to her, where he forcefully gathered Clary in his arms and kissed ferociously. His lips attacked hers; his hands roamed her body and fetched her up hard against the refrigerator. Clary pushed frantically at him.

"What are you doing?" She gasped.

"What the hell do you mean it validated the last five years? What does that mean, Clary?" Beck's hands were painfully gripping her upper arms, and she savagely lashed out at him.

"Stop it! Beck, stop. You're hurting me." She tried again to push him away, and this time he relinquished Clary with a wounded look about his face.

"It doesn't validate the way he hurt you, Clary. It doesn't make leaving you okay. He found some stuff on the demon that killed our parents, but that doesn't give him any kinds of rights back into your life." Beck fiercely shoved the papers off of the island and turned once more to Clary. "He _left _you. Broken. You once told me that you almost died when he left. And now he's back." Beck slid to the floor, his back against the lavender wall. Head in his hands, he looked up at Clary with a mournful gaze. "So, where does that leave us?"

A single rolling tear tracked its way over the apple of Clary's cheek. She dropped to her knees in front of Beck and took his face in her hands. "It leaves us where we've always been. Together. Jace _left._ I never thought he'd be back." She was grasping at straws now, her incoherent thoughts falling from her lips before she could stop to think about what she was actually saying. "We have a family. We _are_ a family. He's not getting in the way of this. Any of this. I can't-" Beck stopped her, pressing a soft and tender kiss to her lips. Crawling into his lap, Clary wrapped her legs around his waist and nestled her face in his soft neck. Beck's hands stroked through her hair, and they sat together, entangled in one another, for a long time.

"I'm not leaving you." Clary whispered against his skin. "Ever. I can't."

"Ditto." He murmured in her hair.

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"Clary, I need to check this out."

She did not know how long they had sat together, but when Beck spoke again, light was slanting in from the western side of the building.

"No. Please, Beck. Please, please, don't leave me here with him."

Beck breathed deeply through his nose, giving every effort of his being into restraining the tears behind his eyes. "Baby, please. Please don't make this harder."

Clary sat back hard, her eyes frantic at the thought. "No, Beck. Take me with you. Please, I'm begging you. I can't be here alone with him. It will kill me!" She grabbed at him in a panic, pleading with words and actions.

"Clary, I have to. And you can't come. You aren't well enough to travel, or hell, even to Portal. Clary, I will be gone for three days, tops. I swear on the Angel, three days. I'm leaving tonight. I will be back on Friday, I promise you, Baby. Three days."

Clary shook her head, her full lips jutting out as tears fell from her emerald eyes. "I can't. Beck, I ca-"

"Yes, you can. You have to be strong, love. I know you can." He cradled her face in his hands, dropping a soft kiss on her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her hair.

"Then I'm coming with you." Clary's eyes sparked with determination and resolve, but Beck shook his head again.

"No. You are too _sick_ still."

"Then wait for me." Her hands waved in the air with a certain air that was distinctly Clary. He smiled and kissed her again.

"This can't wait."

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Clary stepped back from the wall in a huff. The portal was complete, though she was certainly not happy about it. Beck's bad leaned against his leg as he stood back, observing her calmly. She turned and saw him there, unwillingly to let him go. Once more she tried.

"Beck, please don-"

"Ssh. I want to keep this image in my head. Me, the fearless adventurer, you, the woman he loves who is waiting anxiously for his return."

She smacked his chest, but his words had the intended effect. She smiled and stepped into his embrace. Their display of affection was cut short, however, by the patter of little feet charging down the hallway. Kale jumped into Beck and hugged him fiercely.

"Here, Beck." Kale thrust a small moonstone pendant dangling from a small woven cord at Beck. "It's a necklace I made. You pretty much have to wear it." Beck smiled and hugged Kale back, squeezing tightly, before setting the young boy back on his feet. Clary dropped the necklace over Beck's head, and fingered it lightly.

"It's beautiful, Kale."

"I know." Kale shrugged, "Be safe. 'Kay?" Beck nodded, and Kale shouted "Bye!" Over his shoulder before running off in the direction he came.

Beck turned to Clary once more. "Three days. I promise you. That's it."

They kissed once, twice, three more times before Beck stepped through the Portal. Clary waited until she was safely in her room, clutching Beck's pillow before she broke down into gut-wrenching, body-shaking sobs. She knew exactly what these next three days were going to bring, and the one person who would be able to stop it was half way around the world.

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The next morning at breakfast, Clary ate silently, ignoring the blond-haired boy as he strode confidently into the room.

"Morning, Baby."

Clary slowly looked up. "Do not address me. Do not look at me. Do not think about me." She looked back to her cereal, to which she muttered, "In fact, don't even breathe."

"I heard that!" Jace answered in a singsong voice.

"I mean it, Jonathan. Leave me alone. You got in my head once, congratu-freaking-lations. It won't happen again." She stood and angrily threw her half-eaten bowl of cereal in the sink and nearly ran from the room.

_This is going to be easier than I planned, _Jace thought to himself.

_Excellent._

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"Seriously, Clary," Jace said as he stole up behind her that night. He had to admit that she had almost accomplished avoiding him all day… Almost. "You can't get away from me. I know you better than anyone in this world. I know what you want. I know you still love me." He laid his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall, blocking her attempted knee-shot to his groin. He _tsked_ at her. "That's not very nice, Missy."

"Get away from me," Clary ground out from between her teeth. "Jace, stop it. Now. I love Beck. Not you. I will always love Beck. It will _always _be him. There is no competition." She continued struggling, but he was so much stronger than she.

Jace looked straight in the eye, his golden pouring into and searching her green. In them, she saw the truth. They still loved each other. It was as inescapable as death – or taxes – that they could never quit each other. Jace recognized it. Clary recognized it. And like that, their lips meshed, their arms entangled, his knee separated her legs and she slammed into the wall. Breathy moans and gasps fell from their lips as they tried to get closer and closer.

"He might make the ground shake, but can he make the earth move like I can?"

Jace's words came out strangled; his lips were too busy sucking and pulling at hers. He lifted her, hitching her legs around his waist, and moved to Clary's bedroom, stumbling and reeling the whole way. Once there, they fell on the bed, desperate gasps and moans accompanying exploring hands, testing and teasing, pulling and pinching and stroking and pleasing. Clothes flew from their bodies of their own accord, landing on the floor in complete disarray. Their bodies joined and separated, joined and separated. Clary's screams were muffled in Jace's neck and shoulder; Jace's trembling hands reached out and dug into her hips, trying to communicate his pleasure to Clary in every word and touch. He cried out, and they collapsed together in a shivering huddle under the thick down quilt that had once belonged to Beck's mother. There, they reveled in one another's arms, whispering declarations of love and faithfulness and regret. Safely nestled in Clary's arms, Jace fell asleep.

Clary smiled as she watched Jace, nearly dropping off to sleep herself, both emotionally and physically exhausted from the day's events. She turned away from Jace's sleeping body, resting her bare back against his naked chest, and sighed happily, her eyes drifting closed. But then, reality set in. Eyes flying open, her hand fisted and pressed against her mouth as tears flowed from her eyes for the fifth time today. Slowly, she calmed herself down and lay against Jace, staring blankly at the wall in deepest self-loathing and hatred.

How could she have done this.

How.

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**So… thoughts? I don't do lemons.**

**Author questions:**

**How was your Christmas/Kwanzaa/Hanukkah?**

**What was your favorite holiday read?**

**Have you read **_**The Killer Angels**_** by Michael Shaara? **

**Leave me some love and some comments. As always, you will get a spoiler. **

**Be forewarned. This may not get updated for a while again.**

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


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